


On The Precipice

by Walker98



Category: The Host (2013), The Host - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alien Invasion, Chicago (City), F/M, Rewrite, Romance, Science Fiction, Souls
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 11:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 48,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16428593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walker98/pseuds/Walker98
Summary: Story Rewrite - In the city of Chicago, Marc Walters and a small band of Human rebels have been able to hide in a city full of Aliens called Souls. Surviving thru guile, smarts, and a little luck they have managed to remain free even as Seeker Bright Moon on Fallen Snow is closing in on them. However, both Humans and Souls will have to put aside differences as an unknown plague begins to affect both sides.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I'm making the effort to rewrite my first story but with my other projects, it's taking longer than I intended.  
> You can still read the original On the Precipice - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1178226/chapters/2401933
> 
> This is part one of a three part story. The next part is Pathways in Darkness and the story concluded in Upon the Rising Storm.  
> The Host belongs to Stephenie Meyer. The story is hers, I'm just playing in her world.  
> I hope you enjoy reading my little fanfiction and if you get a chance please review. I love the feedback.
> 
> -Walker

It was warmer than usual for an early spring night in Chicago. The icy winter had only recently retreated from the city and the unexpected warming, combined with a rainy afternoon had given the warehouse district in the south side of the city a distinct humid feeling. Not enough to make one sweat unless one happened to be hard at work.

The group of two men and one woman working to load a decrepitly old van at the loading dock of a darkened warehouse was indeed very sweaty. But as Seeker Bright Moon on Fallen Snow looked through her binoculars and observed the group, she believed their perspiring had much more to do with worry and stress. There was a nervous tension to their movements as they struggled with boxes of supplies at the end of the street. Each of them was constantly surveying the area as they worked, all of them looking for an unseen threat.

It was long past the time anyone would ordinarily be working at the warehouse.  _'Any Soul that is...'_  she reminded herself, but this group was most certainly not her peaceful brethren. She was certain these three were wild Humans.

From her hiding spot in the shadows of another warehouse Bright Moon put down her binoculars and looked at her fellow Seeker. Calm Waters Below was a tall narrow man with a high forehead and thinning dark brown hair. More accurately, Calm Waters Below's Human host was a tall man with a slowly receding hairline. The true Calm Waters Below was a beautiful silver ribbon a few inches long with hundreds of thin, wire-like antennae. The nearly thousand tentacles tied the Soul securely to his host's brain.

Like his name, he always presented a calm demeanor and quiet reassurance that Bright Moon found so helpful. Especially when preparing for a task like the one they would be undertaking in a few moments. Wild Humans could be dangerous and she had personal experience with the group of humans loading the truck, they could be very dangerous indeed. Almost unconsciously she felt the pistol on her belt, felt its weight and its potential to end lives. As a Soul she abhorred violence, but as her following did require it, she was more than ready to use her weapon.

In the Seeker patrol car, Calm Waters asked, "Humans?" The dim lights of the car's dashboard faintly reflected in the silver in his eyes.

Carefully walking to remain hidden in the shadows she answered softly. "I am sure of it. Are we ready?"

Calm Waters Below looked out of their vehicle and took sight of the four other Seeker patrol cars parked alongside them. Each Seeker inside the cars gave a quick nod of the affirmative. "We are," he responded firmly.

Before climbing into the sleek patrol car, Bright Moon took her cell phone and connected to the remaining group of Seekers based at the other end the warehouse. "This is Seeker Bright Moon on Fallen Snow; we're beginning our interception now. On my signal, all groups pull in and grab our subjects as they try to escape the warehouse." There was a quick response over the line stating that her fellow Seekers were ready. She entered the vehicle smoothly while Calm Waters in the passenger seat awaited her command. With a small smile, she said, "Go."

The steamy spring night's silence was broken in an instant with the sudden start of four car engines. Bursting from their chosen hidden spot in the shadows the patrol cars shot down the street. Quickly and effortlessly the Seekers vehicles closed the distance to the loading dock and boxed in the truck.

One of the startled men took only a moment to see the cars and their occupants for what they were. "Seekers!" he cried out. With the patrol cars preventing the van from being an avenue of escape for the Humans, the three momentarily panicked. The headlight of the Seekers' cars reflecting off their plain Human eyes and Bright Moon could see their fear.

But the Humans quickly rallied. The biggest man threw the box he carried at the patrol vehicle. It bounced off the windshield ineffectively. "Run fools," he bellowed and sprinted for the open door of the warehouse. The other two Humans shook off their temporary paralysis and quickly bolted after the first man. In a panicked run, they rushed into the dark gloom of the warehouse.

Bright Moon was out of the car just as it came to a stop. Her body was young and athletic and she pushed it forward with ease. Since coming to Earth three years ago, she had grown to like this host body more than any of her earlier bodies. Strong and quick, she jumped up the short flight of stairs to the loading dock. Her fellow Seekers right behind her as she followed the Humans into the warehouse.

Inside the warehouse it was nearly pitch black, the only illumination coming from small lights at the end of each row of supplies making up the contents of the warehouse. She and her companion Seekers brought out flashlights giving them added lighting in the dark building. The three Humans running down the center aisle didn't have any flashlights and were desperately looking for a way out. This was as she planned; her small group of Seekers would push the Humans into a larger group waiting at the other side of the building. She grew confident, if all went well she would have three captives. A quick insertion of a Soul to each Human and she would be able to find where their hidden base of operation was by the end of the night.

As she ran she caught sight of movement in her peripheral vision. It wasn't one of her fellow seekers, only a quick shift of something dark in the even darker warehouse.  _'Someone else here?'_  she thought, but her attention focused back to the three Humans. They were slowing, tiring and her squad was catching up. Nearing the center of the store, she noticed something was wrong with the ground. Instead of the hard concrete, the floor yielded and felt strangely soft and uneven.

Out of the darkness something came, low and fast. Bright Moon was just about to raise her voice in alarm when it struck her. In an instant it wrapped around her legs. With her legs caught her chase abruptly came to end. She stumbled and then went down on her knees. As she fell her flashlight dropped and it bounced away into the dark.

With a rapid swiftness, she saw several other of her fellow Seekers fall as well. Their legs also caught in the same tangle of cords around her legs. It had wrapped around her legs tightly. She tried to make sense of the object. It was a long thin rope with a weight tied to the end, her host's mind pulling up a dim memory of the object – a Bola. As she tried to free herself from the trap, she felt the ground underneath her. The same spongy cords as the bola laid out in a much larger design. Too late to give a real warning to her companions, she yelled, "We are in a net!"

At that exact moment, one of the running Humans turned and bellowed, "NOW!" And with a surprising jerk of speed the net folded upwards carrying several of the Seekers off the ground. Bright Moon on Fallen Snow tumbled into the other Seekers as the net closed around her. She tried to pull herself upwards but the body of Seeker Simple Sunlight crashed into her and they all went into a heap at the bottom of the net, five feet off the ground.

"We got two outside the net!" spoke the Human who had ordered the trap to snap close on the Seekers. He had stopped running with the other two Humans and was quickly closing the distance back to the net. Bright Moon could see Seeker Calm Waters Below outside the net, frantically looking for a way to free them. "Get help," she told him, but it was too late.

She gasped when something small and metallic hit him in the chest. Abruptly Calm Waters' body jerked and shuddered, and dropped to the ground in a heap. The small metallic clips attached to a length of thin wire leading to a small device held by one of the previously fleeing Humans. The Human was big and powerfully built, his dark skin blending in with his dark clothing. He eyed Bright Moon evenly and then bent down to remove Calm Waters' sidearm.

Bright Moon turned trying to see who else had escaped the Humans' trap but couldn't make them out. There was the noise of a scuffle, a sharp hiss, and then finally the sound of a body hitting the floor. The large Human working on Calm Waters looked up and asked, "You get her Kate?"

"Yeah, took her down with a bottle of SLEEP, she'll be out for hours," came a female voice from the darkness. One of the Seekers' flashlights dropped on the ground briefly illuminated the small woman from the loading docks. It's light highlighting her bronze colored skin and dark mop of hair as she moved around the net.

"Okay," said the large man who finished tying up the incapacitated Calm Waters. Taking stock of the trapped Seekers he said, "Everyone, get in there and pull any guns or other weapons they have on them."

Out of the gloom of the shadowy warehouse emerged nearly half a dozen dark figures. In the dim light, these misshapen forms slowly resolved into people in inky black clothing. The clothing was an odd mixture of different fabrics sewn together to form a bizarre poncho with their faces hidden by black sackcloth hoods. One by one they reached into the net of trapped Souls and began to forcefully remove the Seeker's weapons

"You will not get away with this. More of my kind is on the way," spoke Bright Moon. She forced her voice calm to remain calm as she struggled to get a hold of her gun.

"Yeah, but they aren't here now," replied the small woman named Kate with a smile that held no humor. Her right hand quickly darted in between the ropes of the net and grabbed Bright Moon's pistol. The Seeker tried to pull away and prevent the grasping Human's hand but with all the bodies piled upon each other it was impossible. Kate gave a strong tug and the weapon pulled free.

One of the shadowy figures grabbed the gun of Seeker Twice Fires. The large Seeker had tried to hold on to the weapon, but the black dressed human was faster. Once the Human had the Seeker's gun, he pulled back his hood to reveal a boy with shaggy blond hair. The youth looked between the gun he held and the trapped Seekers. A dark expression grew on his adolescent face.

"You think you're so powerful," said the boy as he glowered at the Seekers.

"Please," said Seeker Simple Sunlight in a soft appeal to the boy, "you could hurt yourself. Put the weapon down."

Bright Moon could see the hatred flash across the young Human's face and felt herself shudder. Humans were so quick to violence and she could tell her fellow Seeker's plea would be ignored. She would not show these Humans fear. If this were to be her final death, she would meet her end with her eyes open.

"You should be worried about how much you're going to get hurt," said boy with a grin that held nothing but malice.

A new voice sounded from the darkness shrouding the captured Seekers. "Tim!" At the sound of this voice, the teenager both straightened and stiffened. The voice continued with a firm scolding tone, "No. We don't do that unless we need to."

One of the Humans in their dark dress camouflage pulled back his own hood to reveal a tall young man with short spiky dark hair. He made his way over to the boy named Tim. Offering out his hand he instructed, "And right now we don't need to, got it?"

Tim gave the Seekers another unhappy look but then slowly nodded and handed over the weapon. "Alright, I wasn't really going to, just wanted to scare them."

Turning from Tim the young man sauntered his way over to the trapped Seekers. With a grin he addressed Bright Moon, "Trust me they aren't too happy, right Bri?"

Seeker Bright Moon on Fallen Snow looked at the Human and grimaced. It was something rare for a Soul to do, but she knew this Human all too well. In her time on this world she had never encountered another person who was a source of such chaos. She had met him before and each time he had escaped her, often with large amounts of property damage in his wake. And he insisted on calling her Bri, much to her annoyance.

"Marc Walters," she breathed with a scowl on her face.

The big man who had finished securing the weapons came up to Marc and said with a sigh, "Nice, you're on a first-name basis with the Seekers."

"Yeah, I must be doing something right," replied Marc dryly with his hands on his hips. "Dell, you haven't had the pleasure of meeting Bri and her pals before?"

"Can't say I have, and I'm not feeling too bad about that either," replied Dell.

Marc sighed and his earlier humor drained away. "Yep and she is the reason we lost our food storage out on 8th street."

"Food you illegally took," argued the Seeker.

"And you figured we would have to go on a raid and then you set your little trap for us?" spoke up Kate as she joined the other Humans. With an angry shake of her head she added, "You Souls are just so lovely while you try to starve a bunch of us."

Both Seeker and Marc were about to reply when Bright Moon's cell phone rang. There was a quick moment of alarm from the Humans and Bright Moon desperately reached for her previously forgotten cell phone in her pants' pocket.

"Damn it," snapped Marc as the Humans rushed forward to retrieve the phone. "I thought we had everything."

Bright Moon's fellow Seekers helped free the cell phone from her pocket. She went to answer the phone and request assistance when the Humans turned the Seekers' weapon on them. "Drop it," said Marc in a low tight voice with a gun just an inch above her face. He quickly grabbed the ringing cell phone and tossed it to Kate. "Can you handle it?"

Kate shrugged and said, "Worth a try."

Marc's weapon didn't move at all from Bright Moon's forehead. He playfully brought his free hand up and covered her mouth. He indicated with his newly acquired weapon and said to the other Seekers, "Nobody gets any funny ideas about shouting for help. I can and will use this." Bright Moon felt herself grow infuriated at Marc Walter's antics. For a moment she considered biting his hand that covered her mouth, but she pushed the violent thought away.

Answering the phone and a tiny voice came from the speaker, "Seeker Bright Moon, are you there? What is your status?" Kate responded back as though she was running and said in a fake pant, "We are in pursuit of the Humans, but they are attempting to hide out in the warehouse."

"Understood, do you require assistance?" came the teeny voice reply.

Kate kept her voice as calm as possible, "No, please hold your position, we don't want any of them to escape. Thank you." With that she hung up the phone and tossed it into the darkness. "No telling if they bought that."

"Yep," replied Marc as he let go of Bright Moon, "Time to get this show on the road."

Now Bright Moon spoke up, "You can't leave without them noticing. Your truck is trapped and is too slow to get away." She was gaining confidence, trapped as she was, so were the Humans.

Marc smiled the same smile that always irritated her. His grin reappeared on his face and he said to her, "True, but I'm not here for food and the truck isn't needed."

She frowned again and realized she was truly getting angry with this Human. "What are you here for?" she demanded in a very firm voice

Marc leaned over her and said with a leer in his voice, "Something you have that I want." He reached up with his hand and began to slowly move up her hip. She tried to pull away as he reached up to her waist. Her dress uniform had ridden up from her twisting in the net and when his hand touched her bare skin she roughly inhaled.

"Sorry about this," said Marc and he reached into her pocket and pulled out…the keys to her patrol car. She gaped at him and he continued, "Your Seeker cars are so choice. Nice and fast, just what we need here." She saw the other Humans confiscate the other Seekers' keys as well.

Marc and the other Humans began to walk away and disappear into the darkness that surrounded the Seekers. "Wait," cried Bright Moon but the Humans didn't stop and were quickly swallowed by the gloom of the warehouse.

But Marc's voice did echo back from the blackness, "See you around Bri."

* * *

####

* * *

It was late and the generators had long since switched to their nightly low power mode. The office lights were powered down with the exception of a small desk lamp which created a narrow cone of illumination on the desk. A man sat working in this tiny circle of light, reading over a pile of reports when the door to his office opened. His assistant walked in from the gloomy hallway beyond.

"Are we ready?" asked the man without looking up from the report he was reading.

"Everything is in place," replied his assistant who took a seat across from him, "We have monitors at all key locations."

The man nodded and asked, "The latest fallout projections?"

His assistant handed him a thin file. "Research predicts around ninety percent, give or take a two percent margin of error."

The man actually put down the file he was reading and made a low whistle of amazement at the plan's potential devastation. He then asked, "And how long do we wait?"

"After initial infection, about seventy-two hours for the mess to really hit the fan, so to speak," replied his assistant.

"Do we have any solid reports of Human holdouts in the Chicago area?" asked the man as he shifted his attention to several other reports on his desk.

His assistant studied several papers for a few moments and then answered. "We know of one group, seems like they have been a problem for the parasites for the last year or so."

The man looked up from his reports, "Got to take an unusual breed to survive in a city full of those things."

"Is it an issue?" asked his assistant. "I mean…they're Human."

The man behind the desk paused for a moment considering, and then shrugged, "Sad to say, they're going to be collateral damage."


	2. Beginnings

In the dingy and dirty little space that would be generous to described as a room, Marc Walters opened his eyes and let out a groan. He twisted back in forth on a beaten and worn twin mattress making up his bed in an effort to get comfortable. He could tell he'd been asleep for far too long from the crick in his neck. Rolling on to his side he made a quick glance at his watch. The battered old watch showed the time to be after eleven AM. Not bad considering they had made it back from the raid just after four in the morning. He considered the possibility of going back to sleep and trying for noon, but his stomach wasn't cooperating. A loud gurgle came from his body's midsection and Marc gave up the fight to go back to sleep.

Rolling off his bed, Marc stumbled through his makeshift bedroom. He picked up a pair of trousers and gave the clothes a tentative sniff. He recoiled almost immediately from their smell and dropped them in a heap. Going through a pile of clothing, he managed to assemble an outfit that would not be completely repulsive by its odor. Laundry was going to have to be done sooner than later. Marc briefly wondered who he might con into doing his wash. Paul…Yes, he was pretty sure the man owed Marc a favor or two.

Rolling his shoulders Marc worked to remove the last traces of the discomfort in his neck. He laughed to himself, his moment of good humor brought on by his pain. It could be far worse. He could have a little silver alien in his neck which attached to the back of his brain instead of a tight muscle. Of course, no one seemed to be in pain when the little aliens, who called themselves Souls, were inserted. Marc had seen it done more than a few time. Also came close to having it happen to him. Whether it was painful or not, the idea of the insertion was terrifying to Marc. Once inserted the alien Soul would take complete control of the body and mind. The parasite would know everything the person knew, every little secret. It was why the Souls had so successfully conquered the planet.

Grabbing a few toiletries he opened the door from his makeshift bedroom and stuck his head out to examine the tunnel. The old brick and mortar passageway was well lit with a series of electric lamps strung at regular intervals. A quick scan of the hallway showed it to be empty and Marc was out the door and down the passageway taking wide strides. If he were lucky he could avoid running into Mary-Margret. Making his way down the tunnel he came to a small alcove with a ladder leading down into shadows.

With expert ease, Marc jumped onto the ladder and then hooking his feet to the side rails of the ladder he slid into the gloom. His short ride led him into a new tunnel beneath the main. Here there were fewer lights and the sound of running water filled the hole with a continuous echoing babble of noise. Walking slower in the dim light, Marc made his way into low ceiling chamber. The room was subdivided into multiple stalls by a mismatch of different colored shower curtains. On one side of the room ran a large pipeline labeled 'City Water.' Tapping into this tube was a chaotic network of pipes running to each stall, ready to provide a steady stream of water. Their little community's bathroom area left a lot to be desired, but at least it had clean running water.

Stepping into one of the alcoves, Marc quickly stripped off his clothing. He toyed with the old valve that control the flow of water from the spigot above his head. It groaned in protest and the entire network of tubes shook as water pressure shifted in the plumbing. The air was cold and damp in the room, and Marc fought his body from shivering as he waited. Without warning, a sudden downpour came from the shower head.

"Ahhhhggg…." Came the cry from Marc's throat. The water was freezing.

The stocky head of Jason Millan popped up from several stalls down. He grinned at Marc's tall form as the man thrashed about, vainly trying to get used to the icy water. "It's running extra cold today."

Jabbing a finger at the cluttered network of pipes, Marc sputtered out, "I thought we were putting a heating coil into that mess to warm the water?"

"Yeah, as soon as we figure out how to do it and not electrocute ourselves," came Jason's reply as he washed his face in a trickle of water from his tap.

Marc's only response was a tired grumble. Giving up trying to make himself tolerate the water, he instead took to quickly jumping in and out of the freezing spray as he washed various parts of his body. Dirt and grime from last night's activities washed away and pooled around the floor's single drainage grate. The water was slowly draining away, to be channeled through makeshift pipes till it reached a nearby sewage tunnel. When done, Marc quickly toweled himself off and redressed in an effort to warm his chilled body.

Joining Jason above the grate, Marc began to brush his teeth. The shorter man ran a brush missing half its bristles through his short, thick black hair. Regarding his crumbling hairbrush that didn't do a very reliable job with his hair, Jason asked, "You think the next time you're topside you can get me a new comb?"

"Prone thwang app a thime," answered Marc, his mouth full of toothpaste.

Jason had been friends with Marc for many years and easily understood the man's distorted words. Sarcastically he responded, "What else you got to do?"

Spitting away the foamy toothpaste down the drain Marc rinsed his mouth out before answering. "Funny guy. Why don't ask Mia to get you one? She's good a scrounging things up."

Jason's nose wrinkled at the thought. "I hate to think where she gets half the stuff she finds."

Marc shrugged, "It's either Mia's mystery collection or wait till I have time to swipe some miscellaneous bathroom supplies."

Deciding to get to the point, Jason asked, "So how are we doing on the food front?"

His arms out in a 'What can I say,' expression Marc said, "I'm working on it."

"You talk to the Nun?" queried Jason.

Marc made a weary sound at the question. "I'm doing my best to avoid her until I have a plan."

Jason snorted at Marc's answer. "You? Plans? God, we're doomed."

Having taken enough abuse from his friend, Marc left down the dimly lit tunnel with a small grumble. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Jason." Making his way back from the community's shared bathroom to the ladder leading to the main tunnel, Marc peeked above to make sure there was no one around. Quickly ascending the ladder Marc turned to head back to his room when he nearly ran right into Sister Mary-Margret.

Marc bit his tongue to stop himself from cursing out loud in surprise. Mary-Margret didn't react well to foul language and even in her old age she was quick to whack you across your hand if she caught you. Even Dell and his mouth treaded carefully when around the Nun. With her stooped posture, many would consider her frail and feeble, but she still could move lightning fast. Her small size let her sneak up on Marc, something few people could claim to do. He tried a small smile, but she was not having any of it.

"About time you got up, nearly noon, everyone else is long up and about their chores," said the elderly gray haired nun as she eyed Marc speculatively.

"I know, I know," said Marc trying to soothe her. "We were out late last night, you know, raiding and all."

"And?"

Marc sighed. She wasn't going to let him off easy today. "Not much," he admitted weakly under the Nun's intense gaze, "just some Seeker equipment and weapons."

With a soft sigh, Mary-Margret asked, "Marc, what about the food?"

It wasn't a question nor was it an accusation, but just the Sister's way of guiding the conversation. Marc had long ago given up trying to argue with her when she started with her non-questions. In principle, he was their leader but even with just thirty humans in their little underground society Marc relied on Mary-Margret's ability to help unify their numbers and keep some of his hotheads in line. So he was going to have to give her a meaningful answer.

"Okay, look," began Marc as he pulled himself together to give a cohesive response. "I know food supplies are starting to run low. But last night was a setup. The Seekers were trying to set a trap." Here Marc couldn't help but let his a grin form on his face. "So I changed their plans up a bit."

The wrinkles on Mary-Margret's face twisted in displeasure. "You should have just ignored their trap," she scolded Marc.

Marc felt his grin slink away and scowl replace it. "Oh, come on, they've had it coming. Let's not forget we're running low on supplies because of the Seekers."

Mary-Margret leaned in and shook her head sadly, "Marc, this fighting with the Seekers is only going to lead to trouble, escalating with them…"

"Me!" Marc shouted, interrupting her. "I'm not the one who keeps chasing us, trying to trap us, starve us, and then stick brain parasites in us."

"I know," she replied as she put her hands together in a pleading gesture, and her words grew soft. "None of us asked for this, but we need to find a way to calm the situation. We lived here for years, under their radar, co-existing without their knowledge."

Nodding Marc let some of his growing anger drain away as he recalled their last few years. The network of tunnels existing under the city of Chicago provided the members of their little family the only real defense against the horde of Souls above. Miles of water, sewage, old cable car, and freight tunnels under Chicago combined together to created a labyrinth with multitude of places to hide and allowed access to areas all over the city.

Not long after the alien Souls had conquered the city and taken over the general population, Marc, and a few others escaped into the tunnels to hide from the Seekers. Early on in the invasion there had been more than a few close calls with the ever hunting Seekers. But the pursuing Souls eventually turned their attention elsewhere, and Marc's people worked very hard at maintaining a low profile. Over the years, their numbers had slowly grown as they managed to save a few of the remaining humans on the surface.

To survive Marc and the others often had to steal food and supplies from stores and warehouses, all of which were controlled by the Souls. They had carefully perfected the practice of taking just enough to remain unnoticed. For the aliens were meticulous record keepers, even a small amount of missing goods would draw their attention. Feeding thirty people would require a considerable volume of theft, so they had taken to building hidden food caches around the city. Storing food for when times grew lean, and a raid wouldn't be possible.

It had worked well when the Seekers' attention was elsewhere. But ever since Marc's favorite Seeker Bright Moon on Fallen Snow had entered the picture, she had hunted for them relentlessly. Two weeks earlier the Seekers had located and confiscated one of their food storage sites. Since then they had to make do with other sources, and everyone was beginning to feel the pinch.

"Okay, point taken," replied Marc with a nod of his head.

Mary-Margret folder her arms and looked patiently at Marc's tall form. "So, what will you do?" Another non-question.

Marc grinned like a little boy who had just gotten caught tracking mud across a pristine clean floor and was proud of his accomplishment. "I have a plan," he announced.

The nun didn't even remotely react to his performance. She remained standing still, arms crossed, and waiting. Finally, Marc's grin broke and admitted, "Alright, I have an outline of a plan."

"You know what you need to do," chided Mary-Margret. Her expression grew serious. "She will help us."

"I know," replied Marc. Mary-Margret broke her stance and began to walk along the tunnel and Marc followed after the old woman. "But," he said with a raised index finger which he waggled in front of the Nun, "This is going to be delicate. I'll need to keep the Seekers distracted and juggling several teams on the surface. Careful planning."

"We so fortunate we have you for such planning," said Mary-Margret as they continued down the path. The old woman's voice didn't contain a trace of sarcasm, but Marc knew better. But any thoughts Marc had of a retort to the old lady's derision ended when his stomach gurgled unhappily. He needed to get something to eat.

Ahead in the tunnel there was a growing brightness, more intense than the single bulb lights in the passageway. A rising noise met both Marc's and Mary-Margret's ears as they approached the light. It was an echoing babble, not of falling water, but the noise of a congregation of people. The sounds of many conversations overlapping, arguing, laughing, and discussing. The sounds of humanity.

The tunnel sloped upwards, at first gradually and then steeply as the tunnel began to widen. Mary-Margret slowed as she made her way forward. Her old body was moving stiffly. Marc didn't offer to help her, he knew better. She would never have taken his hand if he had offered. Now at the end of the tunnel, both Marc and Mary-Margret looked into their Great Hall.

More than two stories high and over a two hundred feet long on a side, the Great Hall was their little community's crown jewel. What had once been Chicago's underground Pumping Station 13 now severed as humanity's last sanctuary in a city filled with Souls. From the ceiling hung a twisting mass of lights of every conceivable type, from clusters of small Christmas tree lights all the way up to several large flood lamps. The combined lights gave the entire hall a near daylight level of illumination. The concrete surface of the old station had mostly been covered with an assortment of rugs and carpeting to give the floor a chaotic patchwork design. Multiple tunnels exited from the chamber, off to other sleeping quarters and the hospital.

Their hall severed various purposes, one part dining room, one part gym, one part school, and almost anything else their small band of thirty humans could come up with. Right now Marc was mostly interested in a group of tables in one corner of the hall. A number of people sat at the tables, plates of steaming food before them. It was lunch time and before Marc did anything else he was going to get something to eat.

Stepping forward from the mouth of the tunnel Marc entered the massive room. He turned back to Sister Mary-Margret. "After lunch I'm going to sit down with Dell and work the details out. But I promise I'll get us food."

Her cool gray eyes held his for a long moment, but then she nodded wearily. "Alright, Marc. I will leave it to you." With a puff of breath from her short walk up the tunnel's incline, she began to walk to the section of the room which held their small school. She had not gone more than ten feet when she called over her shoulder, "Marc, if you see Mia, send her over. She skipped out on class today."

"Sure, not a problem," replied Marc absently as he made a beeline for the lunch table. Seeing that most people had already gotten their share of the food and were busy eating, Marc picked up a plate and looked over the food. On the counter there was a small pile of rolls, a half carton of butter, and a large steaming vat of…something. It smelled vaguely of boiled potatoes and bacon. Marc assumed it was one of Dell's creations and scooped a healthy portion out for himself.

At the tables sat nearly a dozen men and women. Sarah and her husband Mike sat chatting away. Sarah was at a good fifteen years younger than the middle-aged Mike. In another world, the beautiful blonde would have been far out of Mike's league. But the end of the world had away changing priorities and abolishing old societal norms. The two of them had been nearly inseparable since little Alexis was born. And judging from her swelling midsection it would not be long before they had another. Nearby sat Todd and Ross worked away at their plates of food. But Marc moved past them, spotting who he needed to next talk with.

Sitting down in front of Eric Sunders, Marc contemplated the man. Pushing nearly forty Eric sat with one hand on his laptop computer, and another one holding a fork over his plate. Not looking up from what he was doing on the PC, Eric blindly sought a boiled potato with his utensil. He made a half-successful stab on a spud and pulled it up to take a bite. Unfortunately, the vegetable slipped off the fork and plopped back down on his plate with a splat. The empty fork reached Eric's mouth, and the man paused, slightly confused at the lack of potato.

Marc shook his head in dry amusement of their resident computer hacker. "Did you get my present?"

Eric, who was back to getting his food on his silverware, looked up with a frown. "You mean that box of crap I found outside my door this morning?"

"Hey, I'll have you know that is top of the line Seeker communication gear right from one of their patrol cars," informed Marc proudly.

"Pfft," chuffed Eric as he bit down on his mushy potato. He chewed for a moment and swallowed. "That stuff isn't anything but re-purposed police gear. Nothing fancy."

"Well, if you don't want it," glowered Marc.

The older man just shrugged at Marc's irritation. "Nah, I'm sure I can use it, even if I just strip the stuff down for the wiring." He gestured with his fork towards Marc. "Now get me a hold of some real alien technology and then we're talking."

"Dream on," replied Marc as he dug into his plate of food. After getting down several chunks of tasteless mushy food, he continued. "I've hardly ever seen Souls use anything that would be called alien equipment. They almost always use our tools. About the only place that doesn't is a hospital. And I don't go to one of those unless I have too."

"Yeah, I know, they've got that crazy idea about 'experiencing the host race'. So no big changes or new technology," replied Eric with a sigh.

Marc shook his head and waved a hand around the giant room. "Ehh, if they had showed up with a bunch of super technologies we'd never have survived. Be thankful for small mercies." He paused to consider and then added, "Besides Simon's already trying to figure out how Souls' medicine works. You should talk to him."

"Blah," spat Eric, "Simon doesn't play well with others."

"Neither do you," pointed out Marc. Eric merely grunted, not arguing Marc's point. Their little family, last human survivors of Chicago, and they still could argue over petty things.

"So," Eric asked in a lowered voice as he finished his meal, "What are we doing about the food situation?"

Marc chewed on one of the rolls, it was more than a little stale. "Well, we are not down to eating rats just yet."

"I figured that," replied Eric, "But this has people worried."

With a sigh, Marc nodded slowly. "I know, but we've had a contingency plan for this for a while, just haven't wanted to pull it just yet."

"You mean Auntie," said Eric. His face twisting into a frown.

"You know she would do it for us if we asked," said Marc with a touch of defensiveness in his voice.

Eric's scowl didn't diminish. "Yeah, she would," he admitted after a moment of consideration. "But this is big. And asking a Soul for this…"

Interrupting Eric Marc stuck his finger up, pointing to the surface. His reply was terse and firm. "The number of Souls I trust up there I can count on one hand, and she is at the top of that list. She's been willing to help before. But I know this would be a lot for her to do, so I've held off till we didn't have other choices."

Eric was silent for a few moments and then let out a deep sigh. He realized they didn't have much choice. He asked, "So this is the plan? When do we start?"

Marc twisted in his seat, thinking through the steps of his plan. There would a lot of prep work that would be needed before they were ready. But first things first. "I need to run this past Dell and a few others, but hopefully we can start in a few days. We need to be real careful on this job. Speaking of Dell, where is he?"

Eric thought a second. "He's up at the duck blind."

"Perfect," said Marc getting up, "Need to stretch my legs anyway."


	3. Outbound

After wolfing down his boiled and tasteless food Marc headed out of the great hall. As he was leaving, he saw several people start a basketball game. Tim waved for him to come over, the kid wanting him to play on his team. Marc smiled but shook his head sadly. Unfortunately, he had to meet up with Dell before it got too late in the day.

Tim's still small shoulders sagged in disappointment. "Oh, com'on," pleaded the boy.

"Sorry, maybe next time, Tim," offered Marc as he walked down the slope of the tunnel. The kid had done alright last night on his first raid and Marc felt a pang of regret for not sticking around to play a game or two. Childhood was precious and Tim was growing up fast. It had ended all too quickly for Marc and there were times he wished he could drop all his responsibilities. But with thirty mouths to feed and the ever present danger of the Souls it wasn't a burden he could drop.

Stopping by his tiny hole in the wall of a bedroom, Marc retrieved a working flashlight and a switchblade. Making his way down the passageway towards the exit of their sanctuary he pocketed the knife. Souls, even Seekers, did not by choice come down into these tunnels. They much preferred the clean and comfortable life in the city above. Through the chances of meeting one of the aliens down in this twisting maze was remote, Marc had learned the hard way with Seeker Bright Moon on Fallen Snow to be prepared.

Marc smiled to himself as remembered the blond-haired Seeker trapped in the net last night. He had certainly turned Bri's little capture plan in on itself. He had taken to calling her "Bri" because it would always cause the Seeker to twist her face in irritation. So few of the Souls ever really got angry it was a treat when Marc could get under her skin.

Up ahead the narrow brick and mortar corridor widened out as it came to an end. The grey cement wall hosted only a decrepit old steel door that led to the outside tunnels. Lost in thought as he came to the drainage tunnel sealed door he almost didn't hear the small voice from behind him.

"Brother, are you going to the surface?"

Marc turned and saw Mia leaning against the wall of the ending passageway. The small Asian girl was dressed in her usual black tank top and dirty cargo pants. With her small size, it was easy to think of Mia as only a little girl of eight or nine, not a near teenager. Although even Mia wasn't sure of her real age, the general consensus was she about thirteen years old. Her short black hair framed her face as she stood looking up at him with an expectant grin. She had scouted out the best place to position herself so Marc wouldn't notice her till he was ready to exit. Pushing herself up as she balanced on the balls of her feet, Mai asked excitedly, "Can I go with you?"

Shrugging noncommittally Marc replied, "I'm just running up to the Duck Blind, nothing fancy." He leaned closer to the girl and tapped his watch for effect. "Isn't time you were in school?"

Mia made a face, a scornful look which communicated her displeasure with the whole idea of being taught. "I know my letters, my numbers, and how to use a knife, what more do I need to know?"

Marc sighed, appeals to Mia about her education wasn't going to work. "Sister Mary-Margret doesn't see it that way, and she's upset that you aren't in class. You don't want to make a nun sad, do you?" The girl did care how the Nun saw her and that was rare. For Mia was not one to be bothered about what others thought.

_'Mia the wild child,'_  thought Marc as he waited for her to answer.

He could tell Mia was considering this while she was silent for a moment, but then she played her trump card. "When you were around Mia's age, how often were you in school?"

She had him there. Regrettably Marc's teenage years were not devoted to higher learning. "Okay, not going to argue with you on that, but if Mary-Margret asks you weren't with me," replied Marc. He began to turn the release wheel on the steel door. It shuddered once and then began to turn with a high-pitch squeak.

After several turns of the wheel, the door swung inwards to reveal a brick wall right behind the threshold. The wall seemed firm and unmoving, but Marc reached out with a hand and almost gently pushed the wall outward. The wall swung out smoothly and silent to reveal a pitch-black emptiness. Just as Marc finished with the removal of the fake wall, Mia grinned and dashed out the new opening. Stopping before moving further into the looming darkness she looked back over her shoulder, "Having Mia lie to a nun, who makes Sister sad now?"

Letting out a tired sigh Marc just shook his head and went through the exit after Mia. The open doorway cast a shaft of light from the lit space beyond into the bare tunnel. Working to reseal the door, Marc pulled it closed and then slowly pushed the false wall back into its place. It fit like an enormous puzzle piece into the curved side of the tunnel, seamlessly blending in with the surroundings. Unlike the well-lit tunnels of their home, the drainage tunnel Marc and Mia found themselves in was dark with a cold dampness that hung oppressively in the air.

Twisting his flashlight on Marc began inspecting his work. Making sure there was no trace of the entrance. This secret door would be the last barrier between his little family and a pack of Seekers. Satisfied he turned and illuminated Mia with his flashlight, she was balancing on one foot with her arms extended before her.

"Have fun with the bright eyes last night?" asked Mia as she pivoted gracefully on one leg and then launched herself down the dark tunnel in a near flawless cartwheel.

"Well...wouldn't call it fun exactly. Never is when dealing with them," considered Marc as he watched Mia's antics with patient amusement. "But it had its moments. Can't say the Seekers will forget it anytime soon." He thought about his parting gift for Seeker Bri. Marc had kept it from Mary-Margret, knowing the Nun would have a fit if she knew what he had done. But he couldn't prevent the smile in his voice.

Coming to a stop in the near gloom of the tunnel Mia cocked her head to one side and studied Marc intently. She had picked up on Marc's little secret. The girl could be oddly insightful for her age."Brother," she questioned, "What did you do?"

* * *

####

* * *

The hydraulics began to whine as the cables connecting the tow truck to the half-submerged car began to pull. There was a huge splash and the patrol car came loose from its resting position in the pool of water. A small wake began as the vehicle was towed towards dry land. Progress was slow as the car was full of water. The front end of the car was badly mangled and further slowed the removal. Seeker patrol cars were built low to the ground, designed for speed and pursuit. Not for offroading through Grant Park or driving into and finally coming to rest in Buckingham Fountain.

Seeker Bright Moon on Fallen Snow watched as her patrol car started to slowly move out of the circular pool surrounding the fountain. She continued to stare resolutely at the automobile, not daring to turn around. The activity of removing the vehicle had drawn a sizable crowd. Even now she could hear the gathering of people softly murmuring to themselves. Such a public display of vandalism had not been seen in the city for years.

If she turned around, she would have to face not only the crowd but a visage of what those monstrous Humans had done with her car to surrounding park. She had seen the torn up earth when she had earlier entered the park. Early spring flower beds had been torn to shreds, neatly trimmed lawns ripped up. At the time, she had been confused as to what had been done to damage the surrounding fields and gardens. It was only when she had followed the tracks that led to the fountain did she realize her stolen patrol car had been used to cause all the destruction.

She was trying very hard to keep from screaming.

Shouting and anger were not the way of her people. No, such emotional outbursts were something wild Humans did, not a Soul like her. She willed her frustration and irritation down in her body. As much as she enjoyed this new world, she did have to admit that their hosts' powerful emotions could be very distracting. There were some Souls that were easily led by the desires of their host bodies, concerning themselves with finding a suitable mate or other diversions. But she was Seeker, she would not let such simple biological functions prevent her from performing her calling.

Bright Moon didn't need to turn to know the footsteps from behind her were from Seeker Calm Waters Bellow. She was well accustom to his smooth and serene gait. He stood beside her as he surveyed the damage.

Softly he asked, "Did you manage to get any sleep?"

Last night had been difficult, to say the least. By the time Bright Moon and the others had been freed from the net, Marc Walters and his companions were long gone with their patrol cars. Rapidly all Seekers in the city had mobilized to hunt for the Humans and the stolen vehicles. Eventually, they found three of the four patrol cars. Stripped of all equipment in an empty lot on the south side of the city. Only her car remained missing.

By seven in the morning with her body desperately needing rest and no sign of the Humans, Bright Moon had returned to her apartment. Stumbling out of her clothes she took a quick shower and headed to bed. She had been there for less than fifteen minutes when she received a call informing her where her patrol car had been found. With a great effort, she forced her body out of bed and blurry eyed made her way to Grant Park.

"I've taken a large dose of AWAKE," replied Bright Moon as she continued to stare at the ruined vehicle while half a dozen Souls worked on getting it on dry ground. "I will manage."

She could see from the corner of eye Calm Waters give her a sad smile. "Have you had anything to eat?" he further questioned.

Turning towards her fellow Seeker, Bright Moon saw he held a small paper bag in one hand. Noticing her interest, Calm Waters' smile grew a bit bashful. "I've brought some bagels and donuts, enough for two."

Bright Moon blinked and was suddenly uncertain what to say. "Oh," she mumbled out, "...that's not necessary, Calm Waters "

His smile wavered but didn't disappear. Calm Waters quietly bowed his head and said, "As you wish Bright Moon."

The work crew who had pulled the patrol car from the fountain finished removing the harness from the vehicle. They indicated it was safe to approach. Letting out a deep sigh, Bright Moon began to inspect her automobile. As she had seen when it was in the fountain, the front end of the vehicle was severely damaged from the destruction it had caused in the park. Water from the pool continued to drain out of the car. Looking inside the car she saw that it had not been stripped of equipment like the others. Most likely the Humans had not had time to disassemble this car.

"Such blatant destruction," noted Calm Waters as he surveyed their patrol car with a sad shake of his head.

"The Humans know nothing else," said Bright Moon in a near growl.

Calm Waters seemed ready to agree with her when something in the car drew his attention. A mild frown grew on his face. "What is that?" he asked, as he pointed to the dashboard.

Bright Moon leaned into the driver's seat and saw there were a series of short gashes in the hard plastic of the instrument panel. She shifted her body so the overhead sun could provide better lighting on the markings. What she saw made her gasp out loud and had hands tightening into fists in barely controlled anger.

The slashes had been carved by something sharp, most likely a knife. The carvings forming crude letters in the dashboard. A simple message, sent from Marc Walters to Bright Moon on Fallen Snow.

It read - "Nice ride. Thanks, Bri. Marc"

* * *

####

* * *

Mia and Marc walked along the darkened tunnel. Marc kept his flashlight pointed at the ground, it's small circle of light at their feet the only illumination the two of them needed to navigate the seemingly endless passageways under the city. They stepped carefully but purposefully as they moved, knowing the exact number of steps to take in this old drainage tube until they turned off for the next part of travels.

"So, she was there?" questioned Mia.

"You mean Bri?" responded Marc as he stepped over a large crack in the cement floor of the tunnel. "Yeah, head bitch herself was there."

Coming to a stop before Marc, Mia turned and asked pointedly, "Why not just kill the bright eyes Seeker and be done with it, brother?"

Marc sighed, "Mia, we've been over this before. Killing them just gets the rest of the Seekers agitated and then they send a small army to search for us. We don't need to deal with that now."

They resumed walking and turned a corner. Ducking down, they crawled through a small hole partially hidden behind a pile of old masonry bricks. Coming through the makeshift passageway brought them to a low ceiling tunnel. Marc continued as they resumed their trek, "Right now I've got them running around looking for stolen cars and traps in warehouses, gives us a little breathing room. Besides, if we go around killing Seekers, it's going to upset Souls like Auntie and Mathew. We need their help."

Mia considered this, but then stopped their journey and asked with hands on her small hips, "Sure that is the only reason? Nothing to do with the pretty face bright eyes Bri wears?"

Marc thought about Seeker Bright Moon stuck in the rope net last night. How her blond hair had pulled out of its ponytail and in a mess. The warmth of her skin where his hand had brushed it while getting her keys. And her blue eyes, ringed with silver, as she glared at him. He shook his head and continued down the tunnel, "Gross Mia, let's go."

In the low-level tunnel, their progress was slow. Marc's tall frame kept him ducking his head as he carefully stepped on the floor. While Mia didn't have a problem with her height, she also had to move cautiously in this tunnel. After decades of unuse, a thick layer of dust had formed on the ground. Unskilled wandering in this shaft would leave a trail in the dirt, a sure sign for a Seeker that someone was hiding down here.

Mia began to hum an odd tune as the walked. Something about it tugged at Marc's memory, but he couldn't place the name of the song. A lullaby for a newborn crossed with music for the dearly departed. He would have to ask Scott, but Marc was almost certain they had heard Mia sing the same melody after they first found her.

Moving up against the right side wall, Marc meticulously inched his way past part of the tunnel filled with dusty debris. Plenty of places to leave a mark of their passing. From the sound of her song, Marc could tell Mia was following close behind him. She had picked up quickly how to navigate these tunnels, learning it faster and better than many others of Marc's little clan.

It had been a little over two years ago when Marc and Scott had found the girl in a storm drain off the highway on the west side. Soaked through from dirty water she had been half-starved and half-crazy. When he and Scott had approached her, she nearly bit Marc's hand. Not the most friendliest of first encounters. But she was human and her chosen hiding spot would be easily found by the Souls. Marc was determined to take care of her and with more than a bit of struggling managed to get her to safety. Eventually, she would tell them her name was Mia, but not much else. She remembered nothing of her past.

_'Mia the mysterious,'_  thought Marc as he welcomed the sign of the tunnel's ceiling going higher and being able to stand up straight.

"Why do we call the hidden room the Duck Blind?" asked Mia as they were finally able to increase their pace. Their upcoming destination's name must have captured Mia's hit-or-miss attention.

Marc turned his flashlight to the girl and saw she had a quizzical expression on her face. "Well, Duck Blind means a spot that lets you observe something...usually birds or other animals without them noticing you."

Mia grew thoughtful at Marc's explanation. "Just like how we watch the Souls."

"Yeah," explained Marc, "the whole thing used to be a hidden speakeasy way back when. The room was designed to be hidden from the rest of the building and let the patrons know if the cops were coming."

"Speakeasy?" replied Mia as her little face scrunched up in confusion.

Marc sighed, not really wanting to take on the role of a history teacher. "During prohibition Speakeasies were places where people went to drink." Looking around the tunnel they were in, Marc continued with a shrug, "Likely some of Al Capone's boys used to use these very tunnels to smuggle in moonshine."

"Oh," replied Mia flatly. The walked along again in silence until Mia raised another question. "Brother, who is Al Capone?"

"Why do I get the feeling you're not paying much attention to history in Mary-Margret's class?" groaned Marc.

Mia tried an I-am-innocent grin on her face. Marc knew the look well, he had used it more than a few times himself. Sensing the need to be the actual adult in their little conversation Marc straightened and said sternly, "Mia, we're trying our best to give you and the other kids some sort of schooling. Teaching you about the world and our history." Here Marc stressed his words, "I know the classes can be boring, but it's important to learn."

"Why does it matter?" shot back Mia. "The Souls have the world. Who cares about what was?" Mia swung her arms wide and turned in a tight circle, pointing at the dimly lit tunnel walls of the tunnel. With a resigned look on her face, she sighed. "This is our world now."


	4. Observed

"Seeker Bright Moon on Fallen Snow, would you please come to my office?"

Bright Moon on Fallen Snow stiffened almost imperceptibly, she had anticipated this meeting, but she had been unable to control her worries about it. Her body's stomach was rumbling uneasily, a combination of hunger and anxiety. Rising from her seat, she entered the office of Seeker Skyward Into the Night. Calm Waters Below was already patiently sitting in the room. He offered her a small caution smile of encouragement. She managed to return one of her own, but her unease continued to run through her body.

Bright Moon sat down next to Calm Waters and found Skyward Into the Night looking out the large windows in his corner office. The small man had dark thinning hair with a tint of greyish silver running through the edges. Skyward had his hands behind his back while looking at the city's skyline. Turning from the view the Seeker's dark eyes took in Bright Moon and Calm Waters.

Skyward's face almost never smiled, instead it seemed perpetually frozen in a near frown. By some Souls' estimation his personality was rather sour and there were those who avoided him. However, his standing with the Seekers in Chicago was never in doubt. He had been among the first arrivals to Earth and worked tirelessly to bring peace and order to this troubled world. Seekers, like all Souls, worked for the common good and natural co-operation among their members. There was no large chain of command to the Seekers, but due to Skyward Into the Night's experience and skill he was the administrator of all Seekers in the city. And it would be Skyward who Bright Moon would answer to about last night's failure.

"I have read the report from last night, but would like to hear what happened from you," said Skyward. Simple and to the point.

Bright Moon cleared her throat, "We had made plans to lay a trap at one of the food warehouses on the south side of the city. We had hoped to make the trap as a tempting target for the Human Insurgency as possible. Once they had come into steal food, we would catch them in the building and secure a prisoner for insertion."

Skyward nodded slowly as he listened. He picked up Bright Moon's report and looked it over. "What went wrong?" asked without looking up from the report

"The Humans apparently anticipated this trap and readied one of their own. We found they had tampered with the building's alarm system. It allowed them to work in setting up a cargo net in the center of the building," answered Bright Moon briskly, not wanting to linger on that particular failure.

"And after capturing you and your team, they stole your vehicles?" asked Skyward.

Bright Moon had to stop herself from shrinking into the chair. She answered just above a whisper, "Yes."

Skyward looked up from the report and frowned with confusion. "There are tracking devices on the patrol cars, are they not?"

Calm Waters Below could sense Bright Moon's growing discomfort and answered for her "The humans disabled the tracking devices. They seemed to have some expertise in hijacking motor vehicles."

Skyward regarded Calm Waters dryly for a moment and went back to the report, "It says here that you and Seeker Allison were physically attacked by the Humans. You have suffered no lasting damage?"

Nodding with a self-conscious smile, Calm Waters replied, "Seeker Allison was given a significant dose of SLEEP. While I was hit by a TASER. It was an unpleasant experience, but neither of us has lasting damage."

"Well," said Skyward with sigh, "it seems we have an escalating problem." He closed the report and looked back out the window. "At first Bright Moon found one Human in the tunnels under the city. Soon after we had the encounter on the warehouse rooftop, that time there were two Humans." Skyward shook his head sadly as he looked over a growing list of sighting and incidents over the last few months. "And now last night you report there were more than half a dozen. They are multiplying like rats."

"What troubles me," began Calm Waters, "is what are their objectives? They don't seem interested in killing us or stealing supplies."

Skyward nodded, troubled by Calm Water's question. "What of the storage site with the food you two found? We still have no idea where it came from?"

"Not yet," replied Calm Waters. "There has been no reports of anything missing from any stores or warehouses. The Humans may have been covertly bringing in the food, but to what purpose?"

"It is this Human...Marc Walters," said Bright Moon abruptly. "All of this, it is some scheme of his."

"I have read your reports on him," replied Skyward as he gave Bright Moon a hard stare. "I'm not sure I agree with all of your findings."

"No!" shouted Bright Moon. Both Seekers jerked away from her in surprise of her loud outburst. Bright Moon could feel the blood rush to her face. Letting out a shaky sigh she calmed herself and said in a much more sedately, "I apologize for my outburst."

Calm Waters Below bobbed his head once, let her know he understood. Skyward's frown had deepened to a scowl. Bright Moon began again, in an attempt to explain her views. She needed Skyward to understand the threat they now faced. "Marc Walters represents a new type of human insurgent. One far more dangerous than ones we've encountered in the past."

Skyward considered her argument. "Perhaps, but his actions seemed often focused on you."

"Psychological warfare," explained Bright Moon. "Their attacks are designed to keep us off-balance, second guessing ourselves. When we become vulnerable...they will attack us outright." She thought again of her car sitting in the fountain and fought down rising irritation. "Marc Walters is insidious. I would give anything to know what he is planning."

* * *

####

* * *

The basement was dimly lit, the only light coming from a row of fluorescent lights installed along the wall leading to the stairs. The rooms on the bottom floor of the bank had been turned into storage long before Souls had arrived on Earth. After the conquest of Chicago, the Souls had little need for this finical institution and the building and its basement had sat untouched. In time, the Souls would come to re-purpose the building, but even the aliens would treat the basement as a storage site and would rarely disturb the room.

On the floor of the storage room a drainage plate to the sewer in the corner of the room began to slowly move. It was pushed off its resting place by a set of hands from below. Quietly and carefully the hands moved the plate to the side with a muffled clunk. Then a head popped up through the new opening and made a quick scan around the room.

Seeing the coast was clear, Marc pulled himself out of the narrow tube and levered himself onto the floor. He reached down into the dark tunnel and with a grunt he pulled Mia up to the mouth of the drainage hole. She grasped the side and like Marc expertly pulled herself onto the ground. Making one more check around to ensure no one was about, Marc pushed the drainage plate back in place.

Both remained completely silent as they covertly moved past stacked boxes. Shelves full of old banking equipment the Souls had not found a new use for and had stored away. At the end of the room sat an old bookcase. Anyone looking at the massive ancient cabinet would assume that to move it would take a great deal of work. But Marc strolled up to the bookcase, and with one more careful check to make sure they weren't observed, pulled it away from the wall with ease.

The cabinet's removal revealed nothing but a blank wall. The empty plaster painted a light shade of blue stood imposingly before the two Humans. But like much of their hiding spots, one layer of concealment covered another. Here the wall was fake. A secluded release on the floor was turned by Mia and the wall swung inward with a soft click to reveal a narrow set of steps leading up.

Putting the bookcase and fake wall back into place, Mia and Marc continued their stealthy climb to the Duck Blind. Ascending slowly up the steep set of rickety stairs they soon turned into a small room. Not much wider than the arched window looking out to the city beyond, the Duck Blind consisted of four dusty old recliners arrayed into two rows. In the first front seat sat a sizable dark skinned man reclining back in his chair, his hands folded over his wide chest. Next to him sat another man, thin frame with fair skin and hair. He seemed tiny compared to the giant seated next him.

"Brother Dell and Brother Scott!" squealed Mia as she and Marc entered.

Dell looked up from his chair and frowned at Mia, "Quiet girl, its midday, got to keep the noise down or we scare the natives." Writing in his journal, Scott looked up as Mia and Marc walked in. He gave them a quick nod and returned to his work.

Mia smiled and pressed her finger to her lips. Marc came up behind her and leaned against the wall. "How are things?"

Stretching in his chair Dell turned towards Marc. "It appears to be a typical Monday for these guys. Nothing so far about our little raid last night."

Marc made his way around Scott and Dell to look out the window. Their secret room was on the third floor overlooking Michigan Avenue. From their vantage point one could see throng of people moving on the sidewalk below. The street beyond was full of slowly moving traffic. Someone unaccustomed to the city's new occupants would likely have not seen any noticeable change. But if they looked closer it soon became apparent something was different. On the sidewalk nobody ran, the crowds were neat and orderly. No one pushed or shoved, everyone moved in neatly organized groups. On the street traffic was similarly ordered. Everyone obeyed the speed limit. Sounds of horns from angry drivers were absent because there were no angry drivers.

"I always feel like that woman...the one who studied those Gorillas in Africa when I'm watching out the window," said Marc after watching the outside for several minutes.

Dell frowned not following Marc comment, but Scott looked up from his writings. "You mean Dian Fossey – Gorillas in the Mist?" he asked.

"Yeah, I guess so," replied Marc. "Just not sure who the monkey is in this particular world."

Scott put down his notes and leaned back in his chair. "We've learned plenty on how they interact with each other. What they do which is Human-like and stuff that is...well not."

"Still aiming to be the Soul Whisper, Scott?" grumbled Dell.

Scott took the barb in stride. He smirked at Marc. "I think Marc can hold his own when it comes to playing with the Souls."

"Oh, bite me," replied Marc drolly.

"Well, we definitely stirred the pot last night," said Dell. He shifted in his seat to look Marc in the eye. "Now is getting the Seekers all worked into a frenzy worth it?"

Marc pulled away from the window and stood before Dell. "There is a method to my madness. I need them all worked up, I just need them worked up in the wrong place." He pointed out the window and continued, "The city is too big for the Seekers to cover every square inch. They rely on the regular run of the mill Souls to keep them informed. But most Souls are so trusting and if they think you are one of them you get a free pass to just about anything."

"All well and good," said Scott. "But just how do we handle pulling in enough supplies? You've got just a few of us who are up to successfully blending into the Soul population. And even then its still risky."

Marc nodded in agreement with Scott. "Desperate times my friend. We'll use Auntie."

Dell let out a muttered curse and then a heavy sigh. Scott looked down at his notebook, his face inscrutable. He looked back up and said warily, "She'll have to lie and steal. She won't like it."

"I know," replied Marc softly. Echoing Sister Mary-Margret's words, he said, "She will help us. She's protected us from the other Souls before. We would have never made it the first year if it weren't for her help." His voice became lightly pleading to Dell and Scott. "Let me talk with her, I know I can..." Marc cut off abruptly when he glanced over to the window. "Mia!"

Unseen by the three men, the girl had gone up to the window and placed her head on the pane of glass. Now she was rolling her head side to side while moaning,"So many bright eyes… All creeping! All crawling!"

Marc grabbed the girl and pulled her away from the window quickly. "Mia, you can't do that, not here. Someone will see." Marc held the girl next to him as she continued to thrash about. Scott and Dell both recoiled in their seats, away from the strange wailing girl. Mia suddenly drooped against Marc and stopped moaning. "Mia," said Marc in a softer tone, "you alright?"

Mia took a deep breath and then pushed away from Marc. "Mia fine," she said in a subdued voice. "Can I go wait on the stairs?" she asked. Her voice sounding utterly exhausted.

Nodding his agreement Marc added, "But be quiet, got it?"

With half-closed eyes, Mia replied quietly, "I know." She turned to Scott and Dell. "Sorry," she muttered. Quickly turning on her heals caused Mia's black hair to swish around her head and Marc caught sight of the jagged mark on her thin neck. Right where an insertion scar would be on a Soul. But unlike a Soul's thin insertion line, her scar was an ugly twisted slash that ran across her neck. Like every other time he saw it, it would make him shudder. He didn't know what it meant and that troubled Marc.

_'Mia, the very strange,'_  thought Marc as he watched Mia descend the stairs.

Scott gave a soft whistle after Mia had left the room, "Been a while since she did something like that."

Letting out a tired sigh, Marc privatively berated himself for bringing Mia along, he should have known better. Mia was known to react badly when around Souls. But he had not thought merely seeing the aliens would set her off. Not wanting Mia's episode to distract them from their plans Marc pushed forward. "So are we up for this? It's risky, but I don't see an alternative."

Dell was thoughtful for a nearly a minute and then spoke up, "No, I'm not seeing an alternative other than hitting a store downtown. I know we would be swarmed by Seekers if we did. So yeah, let's hear your plans."

With a growing smile, Marc sat down next to his friends and began to explain his plan in detail. "I'll speak with Autumn as soon as I can. Hopefully, I've got that Bright Moon chasing her tail to give us some breathing room. Now the way I see it we'll need at least three teams..."

* * *

####

* * *

The time stamp on the video read 2:12 AM and Seeker Bright Moon on Fallen Snow started the recording for the tenth time. A grainy and dark image began to play on her monitor. The recorded angle of the traffic camera in Grant Park made it difficult to make out anything meaningful. Already there were a number of technicians working on improving the quality of the recording but Bright Moon had insisted on seeing the raw video. She wanted to see him.

As the video advanced, the scene remained dark for several seconds and nothing moved. Then suddenly there was a blur as something crossed the screen. Even after repeated viewing this image still made her cringe. On the screen, her patrol car made a sharp turn on the lawn, send dirt and grass flying in all directions. Suddenly shifting to the right it vanished off screen. More seconds went by as stillness returned to the park. Bright Moon leaned in, there would only be a few frames of video. And there he was, a tall figure dressed in black walking away from the direction of the fountain.

Pressing stop on the video, Bright Moon stared intently at the frozen image of the man on screen. The destruction he had wrought felt like a direct slap in the face. She reminded herself Marc Walters was just a Human. He was not invincible or all knowing. She had lost battles before, but she was not going to be intimidated. She was so keenly focused on her work she didn't notice when Calm Waters Below sat down beside her.

He cleared his throat, and she looked up. "Here are the old documents on the freight and sewage tunnels you requested." Bright Moon saw Calm Waters was holding a large pile of documents. She reached for the papers, but he pulled them back. With a slight frown she looked back at her fellow Seeker with a confused expression. Calm Waters gave her a sad little smile. "Bright Moon, you have had a very stressful day, you should go home and rest."

"Thank you, Calm Waters, but I am fine. I am just reviewing the traffic camera video…" she broke off as Calm Waters put his hand on hers.

"Bright Moon on Fallen Snow, you are my friend and as your friend I am…" and Calm Waters let out a slight sigh. "...concerned for you."

She looked at him puzzled and he continued, "There some of us who feel you are becoming obsessed with this Human Marc Walters. Some even worry you could become unstable. I am not one of those who feel this is the case, but still I am…worried."

Bright Moon leaned back in her chair, thinking about what he had said. "I understand what you saying, but I am not becoming fixated on this particular Human," she said, trying to dissuade his fears. "The case, as you know, is challenging and simply requires more time and energy to handle."

Calm Waters looked over the piles of paperwork he was holding. "Why are searching through paperwork on the tunnels? We have all this information online. These tunnels have been examined many times, all searches ultimately finding nothing. You see why we worry. "

"I plan on reviewing the source material myself. We may have missed something," replied Bright Moon resolutely. "He is down there, somewhere. With others of his kind, I know it."

"Evidence points to the rebel Humans using warehouses on the south side of the city and making use of the tunnels only as a way in and out of the city. Please Bright Moon," pleaded Calm Waters, "do not let this Mark Walters bring you such suffering."

Bright Moon felt the sting of tears in her eyes and she let her shoulders sag in despair. She let out a deep breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Calm Waters patted her hand comfortingly. "Our calling is a difficult one. Many of our brethren don't understand this, and we need to face our troubles together, not alone." Bright Moon smiled and dried her eyes. She looked around the office and saw only a few other seekers still working in the office and then to the timepiece on her desk. "I had not realized just how late it was getting."

"It is not that late, but it has been a trying day for everyone. Simple Sunlight went home not feeling well," said Calm Waters, "Hopefully it is nothing serious."

Bright Moon nodded in agreement and smiled at Calm Waters, "Thank you my friend, you are right, I have become a bit obsessed with these Humans. But give me just a little more time today and then I will go home. I promise."

A small smile grew on Calm Waters Below face. "Well, I was hoping to get you to agree to some dinner with me, but I know when you have that look..."

Confused, Bright Moon asked, "What look?"

His smile growing wider Calm Waters said, "The look that says – I will take on a whole legion of wild Humans and still persevere."

She laughed at his small joke. "Handling an army of Humans would be easier than going through all this paperwork."

Calm Waters put the large stack of old documents on Bright Moon's desk. Pulling the top report out, he said, "Well then, I will help you…and make sure you do not stay too late."


	5. Excursion

In the end, it was nearly two days before Marc was able to make his journey. If he was asked by Mary-Margret, Mike, or one of the others the reason for delay Marc would say he was carefully planning his little travel into the world of Souls above ground. Safeguards and contingency plans his explanation. In reality, most of his delay was due to not having any clean clothes. Laundry service for his little band of survivors had not survived past the end of the world.

Marc checked himself in the mirror taped up to the wall of the community's bathroom. The mirror had been 'salvaged' from a parked city bus by Marc some time ago. It still bore the label "Objects In Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear" in the right-hand corner of the glass. The image reflected back was of a man in his mid-twenties. Clean shaven, his brown hair neat and combed straight. Marc hated having his hair like this and had to resist running his fingers through the chestnut colored mop of hair. His eyes swept over the rest of his outfit. A nice clean pair of slacks and dress shirt.

Satisfied, Marc turned from the mirror, stooped down to pick up a worn bag, and headed out into the tunnel beyond. As he walked, he traced with his hand the thin mark on the back of his neck. At one time going above would mean wearing a shirt with a high collar to mask the absence of an insertion scar. Simon, however, had taken care of that with a fake scar on the back of his neck. He looked just like any other young Soul out for a walk. Well, with one exception, his eyes.

Nearing the exit to their sanctuary Marc spotted Scott waiting for him. Also dressed in freshly laundered clothes, his friend tapped his watch impatiently, eager to get going. Scott was always punctual compared to the continually tardy Marc. But to Marc being prompt never paid off, much better to have good timing. It had always been this way between the two from the first time they met. When Marc had rescued Scott from walking into a trap set by a team of Seekers.

After helping him with the door to the outside, Scott fell in behind Marc as they entered the inky darkness. "If we're quick we can catch the 10:15 to Oak Park," said Scott as they moved down the tunnel in a small cone of light provided by Marc's flashlight.

"Nah, I don't want to bother with Randolph station," replied Marc as they started to climb a steep incline in the tunnel. "Too many Souls around there, a greater chance to run into some Seekers."

"Which wouldn't be a problem if wasn't for your little stunt with the Seeker's patrol car," grumbled Scott.

"So the heat is on," said Marc with a self-satisfied smirk on his face which Scott could just make out in the dull light reflected from flashlight's illumination. "Just means we got to dance a little faster. But it's working! The Seekers have been tearing around the south side warehouses for the last few days. Their focus is on the wrong side of the city."

Scott gave his friend a resigned nod of his head. "I'll grant you've got them running in circles. But we're are going to have to lay really low after we resupply. We've not been this exposed in a long time."

This time it was Marc's turn to give a resigned sigh. "Too true. If I hadn't run into that pain-in-the-ass Bright Moon the first time, we'd be just fine."

"It's C'est la vie," remarked Scott quietly as they finished climbing out of the sewage way and began walking in a much narrower tunnel. Marc felt himself shrug his shoulders, there was not much to say. Living hidden in an occupied city had any number of risks, but he and the others had defied the odds and survived.

Walking along in silence through the empty winding tunnels Marc and Scott eventually arrived at the base of a rickety ladder. The top of the ladder stopped right below a grate high above the two men. Snapping his flashlight off. Marc plunged them into complete darkness. Feeling for the rungs Marc went up first with Scott following closely behind. At the top of the ladder, Marc slowly pushed the grille open. It swung open easily and Marc pulled himself through with Scott following after him. They found themselves in a dark, cramped space. Marc ran his hand along the wall and flicked the light switch. With a faint click, the room revealed itself to be a supply closet.

Scott carefully maneuvered around assorted cleaning supplies, while Marc unzipped his bag and pulled out two sets of clean dress shoes. The men promptly exchanged the freshly polished leather shoes with their dirty sneakers. Their camouflage was now nearly complete. Marc started fishing around for the last items from the pack, a pair of small white cases.

"I wonder if any other Humans out there ever tried this?" Asked Scott in a whisper as he took one of the cases. He opened his box to reveal a set of silver rimmed contact lenses.

"Maybe," returned Marc in equally quiet voice. "But you know how hard it is to come up with these things. Who needs contacts or glasses when their Healers give every Soul 20/20 vision."

"Thank God they still use sunglasses," answered Scott as he gingerly took out a tiny lens. There was a minor tremble in his hands and it took Scott a few tries to get the first contact on properly.

Blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the lenses, Marc questioned. "How do I look?"

"Like the enemy," answered Scott with a nervous smile as he finished with his own eyes. He straightened and let Marc look him over. In the light cast from the single bulb overhead, Marc inspected Scott's face carefully. "Problem?" asked Scott.

"You look anxious," replied Marc appraisingly. "If you get jumpy, you'll stand out. Relax."

Scott closed his eyes and let out a long exhalation. Marc could see his friend focus on calming the stressed muscles in his shoulders. Opening his eyes Scott shook his head in bemusement, "I don't know how you stay so calm."

"What's the saying, 'Don't sweat the small stuff'? I just remember that and everything is golden," explained Marc as he dropped his bag down the hole in the floor and recovered the grate.

"You call being stuck with a bunch of aliens on a train, 'small stuff?' Where if they suspect you're a free Human, a swarm of Seekers will cut you open and stick one of their buddies inside you." asked a very skeptical Scott.

"Yep," replied Marc nonchalantly as he headed for the door of the closet.

"So what does make you sweat in terror?" sneered Scott.

"Clowns."

Scott blinked in surprise at Marc's answer. "Seriously!?"

At the door to the outside world, Marc shrugged a little sheepishly. "The idea that someone would purposefully paint their face put on red foam nose, and dress in colorful baggy pants to amuse small children is both incomprehensible and positively terrifying to me."

Scott rolled his eyes and then followed after Marc, grumbling under his breath, "There must be ten types of insanity running around in your head."

* * *

####

* * *

Seeker Twice Fires adjusted the battery back on tied to the portable flood lamp. Satisfied the rigging would hold, the Seeker worked the controls of the device. Pressing down on a big switch there was an audible snap and the front panel burst to life with a powerful beam of light. Powerful enough to light up the entire storage room.

"I believe that one will work well," said Seeker Calm Waters Below as he shielded his eyes from the intense light. Even with his hand blocking the strongest of the light, the additional luminosity caused the silver in his eyes to practically glow.

"I agree," said Seeker Allison with faint amusement in her voice. She had her back to the dazzling bright light as she worked on an identical device. She pushed a brand new battery into the case with a loud click. As Twice Fires switched off the lamp and the supply room returned to its normal lighting.

Turning to Calm Waters she asked, "What is your opinion of this 'fishing expedition' Seeker Bright Moon is sending us on?"

The Seeker paused in thought before replying, "Well, so far nothing has been found on the south side of Chicago. I think it's prudent we check all possible locations for these Humans."

"I say we continue to check the state parks to the west of the city," broke in Twice Fires. "I have been into the tunnels under this city many times before. We've always found nothing."

Fidgeting a bit before replying, Calm Waters said earnestly, "I trust Bright Moon's instincts. She has…insight into the Human rebel leader."

Allison shrugged her shoulders non-committedly. "Perhaps, but I know I don't look forward to traveling in those tunnels again."

Calm Waters coughed suddenly, a rather loud hoarse hacking noise. His throat felt oddly dry. Allison and Twice Fires looked to their fellow Seeker with curious expressions.

"My apologies," said Calm Waters as he cleared his throat. "I think I need a glass of water." Exiting the supply room, he headed down the hallway. Strange that his throat would be suddenly so dry. The air in their headquarters was carefully regulated and always at a comfortable temperature and humidity. But he did not need to go far, there was drinking fountain down the hallway.

Calm Waters stooped down and took a long drink of cold water. It felt marvelous on his parched throat. Finishing, he straightened up, he felt much better. Turning to head back to continue his preparations with the other Seekers he stopped when he caught sight of honey-colored hair tied back in a ponytail. The smile that came to his face was full and quick as he saw her.

"Hello Bright Moon on Fallen Snow," said Calm Waters, practically beaming as she approached. She was moving quickly and had a triumphant gleam in her eyes.

Coming to a stop before Calm Waters, Bright Moon waved a sheet paper animatedly before him. The paper was yellow with age and heavily wrinkled. "I have him," announced Bright Moon excitedly, "I know where Marc Walters has been hiding." A smile grew on her face to match the exultation in her eyes and she added with confidence, "He will not escape me this time!"

* * *

####

* * *

"It is such a beautiful day, isn't?" said the Soul in the body of a middle-aged man as he stashed his knapsack under the seat. His body was smaller than Marc's and his bald head was seemingly so polished Marc could have sworn he could see his reflection as the man bent over. The Soul's smile was soft and genuine as he made himself comfortable in the seat next to Marc.

"It is indeed," replied Marc with a full dopey smile of his own.

After the last stop, the influx of new passengers getting on nearly filled the train cab. Marc had mentally prepared himself to have one of the aliens sit next to him. He took a quick glance back a row to see Scott smiling the same idiotic smile while talking with a white-haired old lady. So far so good.

"I'm Red Stone Cutter, by the way. Most just call me Stone. What's your name?" asked the friendly shiny headed Soul.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Stone," replied Marc mildly. "You can call me Sings of Twilight." It was a common enough Bat name that few Souls would ever remember the name. It was important to not stand out. To not leave any strong impression on the Souls he might interact with while on the surface.

"Ah, Blind world," said Stone agreeably. "You must like being able to see all the sights of this world," he said with a chuckle.

As he nodded with fake enthusiasm at Stone's joke, Marc considered just how predictable most Souls were. How many times had heard them say the same lame pun? It was becoming a matter of routine for Marc with these fake identities. Nor did he worry about meeting a Soul who came from that planet. Autumn had told him so many stories, Marc could spin a tale which could convince anyone he had been there himself.

Stone's conversation was unsurprisingly bland and Marc found himself drifting back to the first time he had met Autumn Gusting Wind…

_During the early days of the Souls' invasion of Earth, Marc and the others had hidden in an abandoned factory as the Seekers combed the city looking for remaining humans. Going without food for three days had finally forced Marc into a desperate mission to scavenge for food for himself and his friends. Late at night after a light drizzle had left everything cold and wet, he had crept into the backyard of a small house at the end of a nearby street. The house was remote enough Marc had estimated even if he was spotted he would have ample time to escape. He had rummaged through trash cans hoping to find something to eat when Autumn, holding a plate of cooked chicken, had found him._

_The two of them had stared at each other in silent panic for nearly a minute when Marc finally said, "That chicken smells great, mind if I have a piece?"_

_The Soul had been so shocked by Marc's presence and his rather pleasant request she had only numbly nodded. Marc had snatched a chunk of the cooked food off the plate and downed it before Autumn could even blink. She finally had managed to choke out a whispered, "I thought you were a cat."_

_"I am not," Marc had replied with a thin smile. "But I know what you are…body snatcher." He had eyed her cautiously as he had listened in the damp stillness for some sign he was falling into a trap. But there was nothing else, just the two of them all alone in the night._

_Autumn had begun to tremble, terrified of what she assumed Marc would do to her. An early Soul colonist, she had seen just how vicious Humans could become. At the time, Marc had known little about the Souls but knew all too well what happened when the ones dressed in black came. The Seekers would hunt for him relentlessly if this Soul raised the alarm. It seemed their encounter was destined to end in violence when Autumn had broken down and started to cry._

_"I wish…I never came to this world…Racing Dawns would still be alive…It's so quiet here…I miss the music," wept Autumn Gusting Wind as the tears streamed down her face._

_Marc had been unable to do anything but stare dumbfoundedly at the sobbing woman, who was not a real woman. Not having the slightest idea what she was talking about. Every instinct had told him to run, grab the food and escape this place. But something in her weeping words reached him, her own pain touching upon his own scars. Before he had realized what he was doing, he had put his arm around her and softly comforted the alien…_

"Excuse me, Sings of Twilight?"

Marc abruptly started in his seat. He literally had drifted off in his memories and not paid attention to Red Stone Cutter's boring conversation. Taking a steadying breath, he internally reprimanded himself. He needed to be focused, one wrong move could spell disaster for not only himself but all the others counting on him. Glancing at the side seat he saw the baldheaded Soul giving him a puzzled look.

"I'm so sorry," said Marc smoothly as he sought to recover. "I was thinking about an old friend I'm going to visit. I didn't mean to be so rude."

Stone nodded agreeably. "Oh think nothing of it, I know I can sometimes ramble. That's what my partner Glass Weaver tells me all the time. As I was saying, our neighbor Janet and her friend Winding Yellow Leaves weren't feeling well today. And Glass Weaver took them to one of the Healing Centers. So I'm going to pick up some food and visit."

Marc resisted groaning out loud. This was going to be a long train ride.

* * *

####

* * *

She was waiting for him at the door as he walked up to her house. Autumn Gusting Wind's body was a short, rather plump, woman, in her mid-fifties. Her tussle of auburn red hair now had more streaks of gray in it since the first time Marc had laid eyes on her. Except for the more numerous threads of silver, Autumn had hardly changed at all.

Opening the door for him, she said kindly, "Marc, it's so good to see you." Marc grinned boyishly and promptly pulled the shorter woman into a tight hug, which she returned just as fiercely.

"Always good to see you too Auntie," replied Marc as he relaxed his grip. Pulling back, she frowned, focusing on his eyes with their fake silver rings. Marc made a small shrug with his shoulders. "Just the contacts, I'll take them off when I get in."

Entering her home while she closed the door, Marc worked at removing the lenses. Placing them in his little carrying case he glanced up to see Autumn watching him thoughtfully. "It would distress me if you ever came here and your eyes were not a lie, but actually one of us," spoke Autumn as she watched him. "So odd to think of it that way," she mused.

"Now, don't fret, never going to happen," smiled Marc in reply. "You guys would never want to live in here," he said tapping his head, "way too much crazy up there."

Autumn returned his smile and shook her head with slight amusement. "My little stray, perhaps some of the truest words you have ever spoken."

"Now you sound like Sister Mary-Margret."

"Oh, how is she? I have missed talking with her," inquired the Soul.

Marc shrugged as he followed Autumn down the hall. The smell of freshly baked cookies wafted in from the kitchen and made Marc's mouth water. "She's doing alright, I guess. She's still teaching our little school, keeping the rest of us in line."

"I would be ever so happy if she came for a visit. She is such a unique individual, Human or Soul. And I loved to sing with her," beamed Auntie in remembrance. Then her face fell as she looked at Marc. "What's wrong?"

"Well," sighed Marc as they entered Autumn's kitchen, "she is getting on years. Not as spry as she once was. Traveling out here would be difficult for her than in the past. She had felt a little under the weather before I left today, so she's been taking it easy." Remembering what Red Stone Cutter had said he added, "Must be something going around."

Autumn grew genuinely distraught at the thought of her friend suffering. "Oh! Is it bad, does she need our medicine?"

Marc held up his hands and said confidently, "Now it's going to be fine. Simon is looking after her and we've got supplies of your magic medicine. She'll be better in no time."

Autumn exhaled in relief at Marc's reassurance. Crossing the room, she opened her oven and pulled out a tray of freshly baked sugar cookies. Marc focused on them as the little woman worked at placing them on a cooling sheet. Impishly he reached out to snatch one, only to get an admonishing stare from Autumn. Scolded without a word, Marc slunk away to sit down at the kitchen table.

Returning to her task, Autumn hesitantly raised a question. "Perhaps…I could come visit her? I know you are very protective of your home…you have to be…but I would be careful."

"Well Auntie," said Marc with a little sigh, "that's part of the reason I'm here. Got a…big request for you." The Soul turned from the still steaming cookies and waited for him to continue. Marc then laid out in broad strokes his plan for her to visit nearby stores, securing their required food. Each order would be small in itself, as to not arouse suspicion. However, altogether the supplies gathered would fill a large moving van. Marc would drive the truck and others would handle the pickup of the food. But they would need Autumn to arrange the rental and agreements with stores to provide the groceries.

"It would take a couple days to do all this, loading and unloading. We would have to be careful. But if we handle the downtown drop off just right, we'll look just like any other truck in the city delivering food." Marc paused, taking a breath from his long explanation before he continued, "After that, we would be happy to have you come visit. I know a bunch of us together makes you a little nervous, but we'll keep our reckless human nature in check." He finished his performance with his biggest grin.

For a full minute, Autumn Gusting Wind was silent in thought. Marc wondered if he should say more when she pulled a new paper out and handed it to him. "I had a feeling you would be coming to see me after I read this."

Marc glanced down at the front page which showed a picture of a Seeker's patrol car stuck in a pool of water. The headline read  _'Wild Humans Vandalize Fountain.'_  Marc read through the story, privately trying not to laugh out loud. A quick glance at Autumn told him she would not appreciate it if he did.

Putting the paper down, Marc sighed. "Alright, I'll confess that might have been a bit much. But your Seekers are making life for me and mine very difficult. Well, they always made it difficult, but it's been worse lately." Marc admitted, not wanting to get into his increasingly hostile history with Seeker Bright Moon.

"Marc, I think I know you well enough to understand why you do things like this," spoke Autumn softly. "To you this is just a funny joke. But to us it is anarchy and destruction. A reminder of every dark deed done by Humans in the past."

Marc interrupted, a resigned irritation growing in his voice. "Now no one was hurt – too much. I made sure of that. But, all things considered, we are not the instigators here." He let the accusation of the Souls' ultimate responsibility for their misfortune unsaid.

"I know," came Autumn's sad reply, "and I know you and your little family have tried hard not to harm us, to be peaceful. But lately many of us are growing worried by what we hear in the news."

Marc frowned, not sure of her meaning. "You don't mean the thing with the Christmas tree lights?"

Autumn shook her head and turned the paper to another story. Marc read the article quickly and his confusion only grew. "How is a Soul kid going missing in Seattle my fault?"

"I did not say it was your fault, but Humans are suspected in her disappearance. She's been missing for over six months. Poor little one, her mother is worried sick," replied Autumn with an absolutely aggrieved expression on her face. "There have been other stories, other disappearances. So you see why actions like yours make being your friend so much harder," said Autumn as a tear ran down her cheek.

Marc dropped the paper on the table and took Autumn's hands in his own. "Auntie," he said gently, "I'm truly sorry for upsetting you." He looked into her silver-grey eyes with own brown ones. "I don't know what to tell you about this girl - Petals Open to the Moon, or anyone else. I don't know why Humans would take her. None of us would do something like this. Please believe me."

Autumn gave a deep sigh and dried her eyes as Marc spoke. "Look, once we get the food under control, we'll do our best to disappear and stay out of sight. Got a few ideas on how make the Seekers think we've left the city. Then it can go back to being all quiet and harmonious."

Nodding, she gave Marc a weak smile. "And now you'll have me lying and stealing for you. How is this for the greater good?" asked Autumn. Marc pondered how he should respond, but she answered her own question. "I suppose if getting this food will keep you from harassing Seekers and molesting fountains, it will be for the best."

Marc blinked at her in surprise. "Did you just tell a joke?" he asked as he smiled affectionately at the ginger-haired Soul.

"Nonsense. We don't find sarcasm funny." She responded with her own loving smile. With an amused shake of her head she said, "Yours is truly a difficult race to be with, yet somehow you make it worthwhile." Then leaning in close to Marc, she added in a conspiratorial whisper. "I have new neighbors down the road. A young couple, both of them from the flower world. They just had a baby."

"Well, umm, congratulations are in order," replied Marc. Uncertain how he felt about another infant being used as a host for the Souls.

"Yes, but that is not the reason why I'm telling you. The child doesn't carry one of us. Her parents want to raise her as a human."

Marc raised his eyebrows in astonishment. "Really?" he spoke in soft wonder. "Guess there might be some hope for us yet."

Autumn beamed at his response. "There may indeed be. Perhaps one day you can meet little Starlight Gleaming."

"I'd like that. I hope her parents are going to be ready to raise one of us. We can be real terrors when we hit our teenage years. I know I was…" broke off Marc as he remembered some of his more troubled younger years.

"I don't recall you being so bad," replied Autumn.

"Well, I did most of my hell-raising before you came along. Alien invasions have a way of forcing one to grow up," he clarified. This earned him a sorrowful lament from a crestfallen Autumn. She was truly sorry her kind had come to this world. But Marc and the others had forgiven her long ago and was not long before he had Autumn laughing in happiness at times past.

It quickly grew late in the afternoon as Marc and Autumn reminisced. As Marc rose, getting ready to leave, he asked, "So tomorrow?"

The Soul returned Marc's grin and got up as well. She started packaged the cookies in a bag and handed to it to Marc. "Yes I will make arrangements and get a truck today," she answered firmly.

As Marc put on his contacts, he gave her a hug and quick kiss on the forehead. "Thank you, Auntie, so much."

She followed him out to the front door. Before he left, she looked him over again. "My little stray, you're all grown up now." She hugged him again and said, "See you tomorrow."

After Marc left the Autumn Gusting Wind went back to her kitchen and began cleaning. She did so enjoy cooking and was always pleased when Marc or one of his friends came to visit. Coughing suddenly, an odd dryness filled her throat. Putting on some tea, she sighed to herself. Getting all this food would be difficult. She tried not to worry about tomorrow, Marc would be with her and he always knew what to do. Coughing again she felt a chill pass through her body. She turned back to the slowly warming tea. Yes, some nice hot tea would be just what she needed.

* * *

####

* * *

Scott had shadowed Marc all day, keeping a discreet distance, making sure nothing happened to him while visiting Autumn. While they did trust the Soul, there was always risk she might have become compromised without her knowledge. The sun was already setting by the time Marc and Scott regrouped and headed back to the safety of their tunnels.

As they waited at the train station while passengers departed, getting ready to jog down the tunnel when it was safe, Scott asked in a quiet whisper, "So how did it go?"

Marc's soft answer barely covered his own excitement, "She's getting a truck as we speak."

"Fantastic!"

Scott response was enthusiastic, but he had to force voice from being too joyous as a family of Souls passed the two disguised Humans. Once the family was out of view and no one else was around they both leaped from the platform and dashed into the nearby tunnel.

They did not have to go far before they came to an old maintenance door. It was locked, but when Marc pulled the knob up and then to the right the door smoothly opened. Slipping in, they both moved down the access tunnel till they reached an old grate in the floor. Taking a quick look around to make sure no one had followed, Scott and Marc disappeared down the small opening and moved down the sewage drain way.

Scott noticed the package Marc had been carrying carefully with him since leaving Autumn Gusting Winds' home. "What's in the bag," he asked casually.

"Umm, cookies…" answered Marc.

Scott's eyes fixed on the paper bag in Marc's grip. "Auntie's cookies," cooed Scott. "Haven't had one of those in ages. Let me have one."

Marc shook his head as he tightened his grip on the sugar cookies. "Come on, let's get back. I'll share with everyone."

"You know," complained Scott, "This little trip wasn't remotely fair. You get to visit Auntie while I get to wait around scoping out her house and looking for trouble. All the while pretending I'm lost or looking for an open house for me and my partner to move into. It is both incredibly nerve-racking and very boring."

"Fine, have one if you are going to be a baby about it," snapped Marc as he passed the bag off to Scott.

Approaching the end of the access tunnel, they now had to squeeze through a small hole leading into the freight tunnels below. Only one could go at a time and Marc started first. Bending down on his hands and knees, he crawled forward. Not wanting to think about how dirty his clothes were getting and that he would need to clean them again for tomorrow.

Pulling himself through and then standing up, he blinked in the harsh light. That was wrong, there should be no light here. But there was light, a bright dazzling flood lamp illuminated the entire narrow tunnel. As Marc's eyes adjusted, he could see a number of darkly dressed individuals waiting in the tunnel. One of the bodies stepped forward.

"Hello Marc, we've been waiting for you," said Bright Moon on Fallen Snow.


	6. Captured

Seeker Bright Moon on Fallen Snow could not keep the spreading grin from inching across her face. She supposed it was unbecoming for a Seeker to be gleeful about her success. After all much of their calling required herself and her fellow Seekers to perform action many would find…distasteful. As much as those actions might be unpleasant, they severed a greater good for everyone on the planet. But, still, as she and her team stood triumphant in the shadowy dank tunnel before the Human Marc Walters she only felt her smile grow wider.

"Hello Marc," she said, "we've been waiting for you."

He stood before her assembled squad in nearly clean clothing. A blue laundered collar shirt tucked into creamy colored slacks. A leather belt and dark brown loafers embellished his surprisingly civilized appearance. Except for some dirt clinging to his pants, Marc was clothed far better than Bright Moon had ever seen him before. With his brown hair combed neatly he looked almost…handsome.

Marc's simple human brown eyes were wide with astonishment. As they swept over the Seekers and finally rested on her, they grew hard and defiant. Bright Moon felt her body tense, he would not go down easily. Then within the space of a heartbeat Marc was moving.

Spinning on his heels, Marc lashed out and connected with Seeker Bedford. The blow left the Seeker doubling over as Marc rushed past the man. Two more of her team moved into grab Marc, one took hold of the man's arm while the second position himself to restrain the Human from behind. But Marc was faster, his free fist slammed into the first Seeker's jaw with an audible crack. Pivoting almost effortlessly he sent the injured Seeker pinwheeling into the second. Both men went down in a heap on the dusty floor of the tunnel. Bright Moon felt her smile drop and a building anger form in the pit of her stomach.

"Do not let him get away!" she found herself growling out. More Seekers rushed forward to entrap the Human.

Next to her Calm Waters Below wheezed out, "I believe there was someone else with Marc Walters, farther back in the crawl space."

"Yes, I think you are right," replied Bright Moon as she quickly studied the narrow little tunnel Marc had emerged. She indicated to two Seekers on her left side to follow back the pathway, they could not afford to allow any of Marc's compatriots to escape.

Turning back she saw Seeker Twice Fires had a grip on Marc's waist and was valiantly yanking the man back while Seeker Allison tried to apply a bottle of SLEEP. What should have been assured victory was denied as Marc forcefully twisted Allison's wrist and exposed Twice Fires to a puff of silvery gas from her own container. The large Seeker slumped to the ground unconscious.

Now Bright Moon was angry, not annoyed, not displeased, not irritated, just plain mad, a most unusual condition for one of her kind. She rushed forward, even as Calm Water Below gave a belated warning. Closing the distance she pulled out her own SLEEP dispensing canister. She would handle his capture herself.

Marc was still stubbornly trying to push off Seeker Allison and make an escape down the dark tunnel. In Bright Moon's eyes Allison seemed to be moving sluggishly, her movements uncoordinated and Bright Moon wondered if Marc had hurt the woman more than it was apparent. With a last shake, Marc pushed Allison off and began to run, but Bright Moon was not going to let him get away. She found herself striking the man in the back with as much strength as she could muster. Her blow forced him to spin around and face her.

"Enough of this," she warned the Wild Human. She had enough of his maddening defiance, she would put a stop to him right now. His eyes narrowed as they locked on to her and his face twisted with anger. A quick thrust with her hand holding the SLEEP dispensing bottle brought it close his face, but Marc countered with his left hand, hitting wrist hard enough to force the hand and its dispenser away. He was fast and a skilled fighter. Most Seekers would not do well to take him on one on one, but Bright Moon had been practicing ever since their first encounter.

Countering his quickly thrown jab, she parried with her forearm. Knocked his hand away and spun her body as she kicked out at his legs. She saw is eyes widen in surprise, he had not expected her to fight him so fiercely. 'Marc and his little band of insurgents were not the only ones who could learn new tricks,' she thought proudly as her blow successfully knocked him off balance. Pressing in she deflected another of his punches. The hit was muted from him being unbalanced if he had been able to deliver the strike successfully it would have been much more damaging. Bringing up her dispenser again, she aimed it right at Marc's face. In the last the second before she pressed the release button he tried in vain to pull away, but he had run out of time.

A large sweet-smelling cloud engulfed Marc's face as Bright Moon depressed the button on SLEEP cylinder. As the gas slipped into his airways, she could see him desperately fight its effects, but to no avail. He managed to croak out one last insult - "You…bitch…" and then his eyes rolled back and his body fell to the ground with a hard thump.

Taking a steadying breath, Bright Moon looked back down the tunnel. Marc had left a path of destruction as he had tried desperately to escape. Allison and another Seeker worked at pulling the sleeping Twice Fires back towards the twin flood lamps lighting up this section of the tunnel. Meanwhile, Calm Waters and two other Seekers examined poor Bedford and the other two assaulted Seekers. One man's face was already swelling where Marc had hit him.

_'Such a violent creature,'_  thought Bright Moon as she straightened her jacket and looked down at her captured human. Marc Walters was on his back, his chest moving in slow rhythms. Such viciousness would be soon excised from the body. They carried a cryotank with a Seeker ready for insertion. Then the man before her would be one of them. With Bright Moon and the others they would finally put an end to whatever schemes Marc was planning.

Elated, Bright Moon said, "He is down and unconscious. We have him." Several of the other Seekers nodded in approval as they worked with the wounded. "Help me bring him back into the center of the light," she instructed. "We'll begin insertion after we've secured the area and attended to everyone hurt." More nods from her team.

Working with the others they pulled Marc's body back towards the dazzling floodlights. Bright Moon held his legs while two of her team gripped his head and torso. Twice Fires already lay in the center of the light. Attending over his broad form, Seeker Allison let out a light mist from a small container labeled AWAKE. Twice Fires' body breathed it in and within a few seconds the big Seeker began to stir. His arms twitched and his eyelids started to flutter.

"How much SLEEP did he inhale?" asked Bright Moon as she released her grip on Marc's body. The Human's legs thudded to the floor. She knew she should be gentler with the condition of the body, but somehow she found for the moment she did not care. Her own people needed to be mended.

Seeker Allison frowned. "A rather large dose, unfortunately," she answered as she applied another dose of AWAKE. With her free hand, Allison rubbed her forehead with a slow massaging motion. The skin of her temple looked pale and sweaty.

"Are you hurt?" question Bright Moon.

"Um, no," replied the Seeker with a shake of her head. "I have a headache," she lamented. With an unhappy sniffle, Allison added, "I don't care for these tunnels. The air is so stale down here."

A loud gasp interrupted the two women and Seeker Twice Fires eyes popped open. "What happened?" he puffed out.

"My apologies Seeker Twice Fires," said Allison as with a tired sigh. Sitting back on the dusty floor she closed her eyes tight, in apparent pain from her headache, before she went on. "The Wild Human caused me to expose you to a dosage of SLEEP."

"Is he captured?" grunted Twice Fires as he sat up.

"Yes," answered Bright Moon. She indicated with a small tip of her chin towards the sleeping Human.

"Good," said Twice Fires evenly as he glanced around the lighted tunnel. Around them, other Seekers were quickly being attended to and would be perfect shape shortly. His eyes finally rested on Marc Walters' unmoving body. "I would hate for him to escape again. Such a vicious man."

"He is indeed," said Bright Moon with a mild nod of her head. "Twice Fires, are you well enough to assist me with the insertion into Marc?"

Twice Fires answered by pushing his big body up with one great push off the ground. He flexed his wide shoulders, an almost showy display of his body's strength. "I am indeed."

"Shouldn't we move back to the surface?" asked Calm Waters Below as came up behind Bright Moon. He looked guardedly around. While the floodlights provided illumination to the surrounding area, their light only penetrated a short distance before these eerie passageways were reclaimed by shadowy darkness.

Bright Moon sat down before Marc and answered, "No, I do not want to give his companions any chance to try to stage a rescue. We will only need a few minutes here" She looked Calm Waters over, he was sweating profusely and looked more than a little pale.

"Are you alright?" she asked, concerned at his condition.

"I am fine," he responded with a visible effort. Then Calm Waters almost swayed on his feet before catching himself.

"Please rest my friend, we shall have a busy night tonight," said Bright Moon with a small smile she hoped would soothe her friend. Calm Waters readily agreed and sat down next to her and she could see his body relax. She felt a rise of contentment in herself at him being near. He really was a good friend, recognized Bright Moon. Even when other Seekers had dismissed her ideas, Calm Waters had remained at her side and supported her even when she had grown despondent. After they were done here, she would make sure he took time off to recuperate.

From a nearby sealed box, she pulled a small metallic cylinder. Looking the cryotank over, she was about to turn its control nob to the opening setting when they all caught the sound of something coming from the dark tunnels.

She motioned to several of the other Seekers. "Prepare a perimeter. Don't let anyone into this tunnel." The other Seekers bowed their heads in agreement and formed up around Bright Moon, Twice Fires, and Calm Waters Below. As the three began to work on Marc, weapons were readied, night vision gear was prepped, and the Seekers formed a tight little circle as they gazed into the silent blackness all around them.

Once again they heard the noise. Oddly it sounded like someone was singing.

The Seekers looked at each other with a mix of confusion and apprehension. Again the sound of some unknown melody echoed from all directions.

Unruffled, Bright Moon began to cut a small line on the back of Marc's neck. She noticed he already had a thin line of a scar on his skin, but it could not possibly be a real insertion scar. It was troubling how the mark looked exactly like one made by a Healer. Obliviously it allowed him greater ability to blend in with her people.  _'Soon,'_  she thought, _'we'll have all the answers.'_

Wiping away some of the blood from her cut she used both some CLEAN and SEAL to stop further bleeding. As Calm Waters handed her the Cryotank she noticed how his hands shook ever so slightly. Giving him a worried look, she wondered if she should not order him to stand down and prepare to return to the surface. It was important they make contact with the others and let them know of their discovery. But Calm Waters returned a confident little smile and she continued her work.

The singing voice returned again, this time loudly and from above their heads

All the Seekers looked up, but there was nothing to see but the decaying cement ceiling of the tunnel. But as Bright Moon examined the dark gray roof she noticed near the center of the tunnel intersection a small tube cut into the concrete. An air shaft leading to the tunnel above. She realized it allowed for a meager measure of air to flow through. But it was far too small for a human to move through. But it still could be a point of attack or a distraction.

"Hold your positions," instructed Bright Moon. Standing up she inched towards the chute, her hand resting on the butt of her pistol and her eyes never leaving the narrow hole. "This could be a trap," she cautioned and the others stiffened in preparation for a possible attack. She should have known it would not be so easy with Marc Walters. Even incapacitated he made her life difficult.

"No one could possibly fit through that," said Twice Fires as he joined her studying the ceiling and its small opening. However, he was quickly proved wrong when a large scraping sound came from the air shaft and then a gleeful voice squealed from above, "Look out below!"

With a whoop, a small dark-haired girl landed in the center of the Seekers. Her clothes were filthy and ripped while several spots on her arms and legs were bleeding from where she had forced her way through the constricted tube. Smiling broadly at the stunned Seekers she then pulled out a long butcher knife from her belt.

"Hello Bright Eyes," sang the girl in a loud, off-key octave, "Mia is here."

* * *

####

* * *

Down the dimly lit passageway Scott ran, he had seen the light in the tunnel as Marc had crawled through and then heard unfamiliar voices. He was almost sure one of them belonged to that Seeker woman Marc obsessed over. If the Seekers were here in force and had managed to penetrate this close to their home undetected they were in real trouble. A dozen of troubling thoughts tumbled around in his head. Had the Seekers found their home? How had they gotten passed their own security systems? Had they managed to get someone and turn one of his friends into the enemy?

He risked a glance back behind him and saw a figure in black begin to pull themselves out of the narrow crawl space. Scott's blood ran cold, they were chasing after him. A burst of adrenalin fueled by fear surged through him and pushed himself to move even faster. Dodging down a side tunnel, he flicked off his flashlight and the darkness of the passageway engulfed him.

With his heart jackhammering in his chest and pulling down air in greedy gulps, Scott fought to get control of his body. In these tunnels ever present night betrayed anyone using even the smallest of lights. And right now Scott needed his ears far more than he needed his sight. All too soon he heard the sounds of feet slapping the dusty floor of the freight tunnel.

"…Somewhere, down this way," came a voice from Scott's right.

A second voice chimed in, "You sure there was just one of them?" They both sound like middle-aged men to Scott's listening ears.

"I believe so," answered the first voice. More sounds of people moving about noisily in the passageway just behind Scott.

Bending his knees, Scott lowered his center of gravity. He need to move, but carefully and quietly in the inky blackness. With his light starved eyes, Scott could already see the subtle shifting of gray as the Seekers approached and lit up the area. He did not have much time.

"Oww…" cried one of Scott's pursuers. The growing light behind him halted.

"Are you hurt?" asked the other.

"No, not much," grumbled one of the Seekers. "Just twisted my ankle in a rut."

Scott let a faint smile form on his face as he started moving silently down the corridor. The Seekers were close and getting closer, but they were also loud and clumsy, and these dark passageways were Scott's home and he knew them like the back of his hand. Going a short distance he felt a faint breeze on his sweaty face. He shifted to his left and started down the new tunnel. Still in absolute darkness Scott began to put real distance between himself and his chasing Seekers. Taking a few precious seconds to check he pressed his palm into the dirty floor. He felt the reverberation of the Seekers running. They were moving in the wrong direction.

Taking no chances, he turned down a different path and then switched back down yet another set of tunnels only to exit into one of the main waterways for the city. Luckily there had been little rain recently and the sewage way was mostly dry. He stopped to catch his breath and guilt began to worm it way into his gut. He had left Marc behind, but what else could he do?

_'Stay calm, need to find out just how bad this is,'_  he told himself. If they were lucky maybe they could still get his friend back. He didn't want to think about the alternatives. With a slow exhale to steady his breathing, Scott began to count his steps as he walked. There was a particular point in this drainage pipe he needed to find.

Reaching out he ran his hand along the side of the corridor's wall as he moved. Bending down he felt along the old masonry making up the wall. He pulled on a small section of the wall that looked no different from the rest of the ancient tunnel. But it came away easily and revealed in the dim light of his penlight a telephone. He yanked up the receiver and pressed several glowing digits and prayed someone would pick up.

Scott waited only a few seconds and then heard Eric's sleepy voice on the other side. "Hey man, why are you calling on one of the drainage phones?"

Without a missing a beat, Scott yelled into the phone. "Stanley Kubrick was a complete and utter hack!"

There was a weighty pause on the other side of the phone. Scott squeezed his eye closed and hoped for the response that would be coming.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN!?" came Eric's fuming response.

"Sorry! Sorry! Just had to make sure you were you," came Scott's explanation in a rush.

"What do you mean he was a hack? He was a visionary…" ranted Eric on the other side of the phone. Scott could feel tears of relief from Eric's defensive response of his beloved filmmaker but now he really needed the man to listen.

"Eric, shut up!" yelled Scott as he worked to break up Eric's outburst. "They have Marc!"

On the other end of the phone, Eric cut off his angry mumbling with a hard cough. "What?" he asked a few moments later in a nearly toneless voice.

"Damn it, we got ambushed and I was able to get away. Somehow they have gotten down here without us know it. I don't know how many."

Eric only took a moment to think it over. "Okay," he said his voice getting calm. Scott could hear him take a deep breath. "Okay," he said again. "Where were you when they jumped you?"

"Down by the second access shaft and the freight tunnel interchange," replied Scott. He could hear Eric swear repeatedly on the realization of how close the aliens were to their home.

"Alright," said Eric after he regained his composure in his voice. "Stay put, I'm calling in the calvary."

* * *

####

* * *

Seeker Bright Moon on Fallen Snow looked at the girl in stunned disbelief. It should have been impossible for anyone to fit through the slender pipe in the ceiling, but the wild adolescent Human had somehow managed. The girl stood grinning at the assembled Seekers with a predatory smile and Bright Moon found herself involuntarily shuddering. It was as if a Claw Beast from the Mist World had been shrunken down to human size and let loose among them.

"Let's play a game," said the girl softly. Looking directly at Bright Moon her smile went impossibly wider. The Seeker never took her eyes off the girl's knife. "I know!" said the girl excitedly, "Let's play kick the can!" and with that the wild child lunged at Bright Moon.

Bright Moon went into a defensive posture, dropping to one knee. Already going for her pistol when she realized she had incorrectly focused on the Human's weapon and not where the girl's feet were going. The cryotank! Bright Moon stopped pulling out her gun and desperately reached for the cryotank. But she was not fast enough and all too quickly the girl's foot made contact with the still sealed silver cylinder. With a loud ping, the tank bounced away down a dark tunnel.

"No!" cried Bright Moon as the cryotank disappeared. Next to her the Wild Human pumped her fists in the air, one hand still clutching the oversized knife and let out a cheer of delight.

Already several Seekers were running after the lost cryotank. Bright Moon turned back to the wild human as the girl shrieked, "Goal!" Grabbing the girl by her dirty shirt Bright Moon attempted to make a grab for the hand still holding the blade. But she had to fall back and yanked her hand away as the human swung her knife expertly and nearly cut into Bright Moon's arm.

"Touch me again and loose fingers," growled the girl. Behind her, Seeker Twice Fires was coming at her fast. His big body closing the distance with a few broad steps. Wrapping his hand around the girl's right wrist to yank her back the child's arm looked pitifully tiny in his large grip. Twisting on her small arm he tried to catch her still flailing knife-wielding hand. The girl went absolutely crazy at the Seeker's touch and let out a piercing scream and started to thrash wildly against Twice Fires. She kicked out and managed to knock the larger man off-balance.

Bright Moon on Fallen Snow pulled her previously forgotten pistol out and took aim on the struggling girl. Something deep within her made her pause. The human was barely older than a child, definitely no bigger than one. For a moment, she considered other options. She shook herself. No, this human was the very definition of wild, she had to stop her. But the pause had given the girl time to bring her free hand up, still clutching her weapon. Skillfully she threw and the knife sailed out, not directed at any Seeker, but precisely aimed at one of the large flood lamps. The blade sunk deep into the main power lead.

With a loud "BZZZT" and then a pop, the light in the tunnel dropped in half. The remaining flood lamp beam was directed in the opposite direction and the area immediately around Bright Moon was plunged into a murky darkness. Turning back to the Twice Fires and the girl, Bright Moon was just in time to see in the gloomy gray of the passageway the wild child sink her teeth into the big Seeker's hand.

Twice Fires let out a yelp of pain and he lost his grip on the girl. She spun and darted back towards the other lamp and the still sleeping form of Marc Walters. Between kicking the precious Cryotank and the crippling of the lantern, this single wild girl had thrown the Seekers into disarray. But they were quickly recovering from this surprise attack and the sheer strangeness of their attacker and they rushed at the little Human.

Calm Waters Below tried to take hold of the child, but his first attempt was too slow, she slid right past him. Then, literally jumping on the sleeping Marc Walters, she cried out, "Brother Marc! Wake up!" Now Bright Moon, Calm Waters, Allison, and two other Seekers took hold of the Wild Human and pulled her off the unconscious man. The girl writhed and thrashed in their collective grip, all the while letting out pained mewling moans.

Still cradling his wounded hand Twice Fires marched up. "Get some SLEEP medication," he said to the other Seekers as he glared at the still wriggling girl. "A lot of it."

"Stop this child," demanded Bright Moon to the girl, "you will be still."

But the girl just laughed. "Oh, you are all the same! You have bright eyes but just not that bright. The game has changed!"

It was then Bright Moon saw something clutched in one of the girl's hands. A small white plastic tube. She yanked it away and looked it over. It was a bottle of AWAKE, an empty bottle of AWAKE.

"Brother is not sleeping now!" cried Mia.


	7. Assembled

"Really Simon, you don't need to fuss over me so much," intoned Sister Mary-Margret as she sat up on the narrow bed. She reached under the cot with one hand in the search for her shoes. "Isn't Sarah due for her weekly checkup?"

Doctor Simon Jansky tried and failed to clamp down on his irritation over his current subject. Actually, it was hard to call the elderly Nun a patient, as she typically refused to be bed-bound and would continually make a nuisance of herself about his hospital. He firmly pushed down on the old woman, forcing her to remained in bed.

"You really need to rest," he said impatiently. "You've been pushing a fever for the better part of a day. And I don't like the way your lymph nodes are looking."

Usually, his less than cordial nature could cajole those under his care to behave and obey him. Not so with Mary-Margret. "My nodes are fine," she affirmed, slapping his hand away.

Simon sighed and considered his options. He could continue to argue, but he knew it would be wasted effort. "Lie down or I will tie you down," he commanded. Her eyes narrowed and held his gaze in a challenge. He was not having any of it. "I have some rope. I'll get it now." She continued to glare at him, but eventually she laid back on the cot and stared up at the curved brick ceiling of the hospital.

Satisfied, Simon went back to work at his makeshift desk. The top of the table was actually a large piece of laminate board. As good as any piece found in a laboratory. Simon had no idea where Marc had managed to find it. But the rest was in much worse shape. A stack of decaying wooden boxes made up one side of the desk's support while the other was upside down twenty-gallon bucket. Finding his notebook among the collection of medical instruments on the bench, he began to review Mary-Margret's recorded symptoms.

From the cot came more protests as he read. "There isn't any need for this. You gave me a dose of that fancy Soul medicine. I'll be fine."

He was about to respond when a distant rumbling began to build in the room. It came from above and from behind. It grew in strength as the seconds passed. Automatically Simon reached down to steady his desk. He did not need to look at his watch, the Red Line was right on time as always. Soon the whole hospital was shaking.

The tunnel for the subway train was only about fifty feet above and every time it passed the room would shake like a beaten drum while the lights flickered on and off. His little hospital lay in the middle of a decrepitly old tunnel which had once severed a trolley system in Chicago more than a century ago. It, like all the tunnels under the city, had been sealed up and forgotten decades before the Souls had come to this world. As a place to practice medicine, it left much to be desired, but Simon had worked in worse.

"I know," came his irritated reply after the room stopped shuddering. "I gave you a dose of HEAL and COOL, but it doesn't seem to be working. Supposedly this stuff doesn't have an expiration date, but I'm going to try a different container."

Simon turned back to find Mary-Margret once again sitting up in bed. Shaking his head at her stubbornness, he doled out a dose from a bottle labeled COOL. The nun swallowed the small square tissue without issue. He did not bother with a thermometer, with the back of his hand pressed against her forehead he could easily feel her body's temperature drop and her normal skin tone return.

"See," lightly scolded Mary-Margret. "Their medicine is working. I feel fine."

Simon gritted his teeth. He hated using the Souls' medicine, even if he could not deny its success. He had spent months studying the stuff but was no closer to understanding how it worked. The aliens' medication seemed to be able to cure nearly anything. Or it had up until this morning. As much as he wanted to help the old pain-in-the-ass nun, Simon found he was taking a certain amount satisfaction in seeing the miracle medicine fail. "Yes," he replied curtly, "but your fever keeps coming back. That's not supposed to happen."

Before Mary-Margret could reply, Tim rushed out the tunnel connecting the hospital to the rest of their underground sanctuary. Coming to a stop before the two, the teenager was panting hard. He had evidently run the entire way. As soon as he managed to catch even a hint of his breath he blurted out, "They've got Marc!"

"Peace, boy," said Sister Mary-Margret with a tone that implied she was not going to listen to another word Tim had to say until he calmed down.

Tim took two deep gulps of air and then spoke just slightly calmer and few more details. "Dell told me that Scott and Marc got jumped by a bunch of Seekers!"

Simon and Mary-Margret exchanged worried glances but both managed to keep their alarm under control. The nun eyed Tim's slender frame and floppy blonde hair. "Now Timothy," she instructed, "Tell us exactly what Odell said."

Tim fumed, irritated at Mary-Margret's use of 'Timothy.' She always called him by that name when she was scolding him. But it had the net effect of distracting him from his current turmoil over Dell's news. "Fine," grumbled Tim. "Dell told me this – "Scott and Marc got jumped by a squad of Seekers. Scott got away and we're getting a group together to go after Marc. Get Simon down here, we may need his help."

Simon scowled at Tim's relay of Dell's command. "Getting a group together? What the hell does Dell think that will accomplish? If Marc has a worm in his head, then its game over for him."

"I know," shot back an aggrieved Tim. "But…I think they hope to stop the Seekers before they get out of the tunnels."

"What!?" demanded both Mary-Margret and the doctor.

"Yeah," replied Tim, realizing he had indeed left out an important detail. "Marc wasn't captured above ground. The Seekers were already in the tunnels waiting for them!"

Simon cursed under his breath, muttering angrily while Mary-Margret paled and began to whisper a prayer. Tim remained standing at the exit of the hospital, nervously bouncing on his feet, eager to return to the others. With Seekers this close, Tim's news had grown from horrifying to absolutely catastrophic.

"Alright," said Simon wearily to Tim, "I'm coming." Giving Mary-Margret a sidelong glance, he started to ask, "Are you feeling…"

"I'm fine!" barked the old woman as she got to her feet.

With Tim taking the lead, they exited out the hospital and began to make their way back to the main hall. The connecting tunnel zig-zagged back and forth as it descended lower into their subterranean home. Normally it was a five-minute walk, but they ran nearly the entire way in made in just over two. Simon was distributed to hear a growing raspiness in Mary-Margret's breathing as the three jogged into the large hall.

On the north side of the chamber, swarming around the makeshift dinner tables the remaining band of rebels had assembled. There was a nervous, agitated air running through the crowd as they approached. Simon saw the anxious glances come from Nancy, Greg, and Ross while looks of hard anger on Kate's and Jason's faces. Anger mixed with fear, a most potent of combinations. Breaking through the roused buzz of voices, the deep echoing voice of Odell Watson came through with all the subtly of a sledgehammer.

"Now listen!" thundered Dell and the others grew quickly quieted. "We know the Seekers are close. They've managed to find their way into the old freight tunnels running right above us."

Angry muttering began anew but was cut off quickly by Dell. "I know! I know! The made it past the false wall we had in place. Possibly they got lucky, or maybe they found something that clued them in."

"Or someone!" shouted someone from the crowd.

"Maybe," rumbled Dell, "But ultimately it doesn't matter. We know there's only a dozen here. If we act fast, we can take care of them before they can get out a warning."

A low, almost feral, hum came from some members of the gathering. Eager nods of agreement passed between the human survivors. Simon saw Mary-Margret's eyes grow steely as she saw the growing wrath of the mob.

Her voice cut through the rising rancor with practiced ease. "What of Marc? Are we going to simply abandon him?"

Dell answered, his voice deadly calm, "By now Marc is either dead or taken over. Make no mistake, this is not a rescue mission." Dell smacked his big hand down on the table with a forceful thud. "We have to stop those Seekers before they stumble upon our home."

"If those Seekers go missing down here, more of them will come," warned Mary-Margret.

"True," admitted Dell, "but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Right now we have to stop them from getting any closer."

Reluctant nods came from the gathered mob. Dell looked around slowly, taking in all the assembled people. His eyes narrowed when he realized someone was missing from the crowd.

"Where's Mia?"

* * *

####

* * *

Awareness returned to Marc with such an abrupt burst energy all his senses went thrown into overdrive. Light from the nearby flood lamp was more brilliant than the noonday sun. The stifled air of the tunnel felt as dry as a thousand-year-old tomb. And someone's cries a wailing alarm bell.

His mind was trying to start and failing badly. The Seekers…Right…There had been Seekers in their tunnels. He and Scott had stumbled right into them…There had been a fight…they were trying to capture him…. What had happened?

Mia's voice cut through the roiling mess that was Marc's mind. "Brother is not sleeping now!"

Managing to roll to one side he saw Mia surrounded by the black uniformed Souls. A big one had his arms around the girl. She was struggling to get free but the large Seeker holding her fast. A woman with blonde hair in a ponytail had her back to him. She had grabbed something from away from Mia, something small. In a confused voice, she muttered, "Awake?"

She then swiftly turned around and her silver ringed eyes focused on him. Marc's cognitive processes suddenly cleared as beheld Seeker Bright Moon on Fallen Snow. For a long moment they both stared at each other in a stunned silence.

It was Marc who moved first. His body felt like it had touched a live wire and electricity was shrugging through his veins. He was half sitting next to the two flood lamps the Seekers had brought to light up the tunnels. One was already off, a large kitchen knife embedded in the main power lead. The other was within easy arms reach. The Seekers saw this but they had no time to react before Marc slammed his hand down on the controls.

Darkness flooded back into the tunnel. Without any lights this far underground the inky blackness was complete and absolute. Sounds were the only thing remaining and it was a cacophony of confused shouts and grunts. The Seekers had been right on top of each other when Marc turned off the lights. Noises of too many bodies trying to move and stumble over each other echo in all directions.

Marc shoved himself up. Waving his arm out, he sought the curved bricks of the old tunnel. hole. Instead of touching the dry, cool wall, he felt someone's arm. Grabbing onto it with an iron grip he yanked hard. Whoever the arm belonged to was bigger than Mia and with his pull brought about a distinct masculine grunt. Without a second of hesitation, Marc's fist thrust into the darkness where he judged the man's midsection must be. His blindly thrown punch did not connect particularly well, but enough to elicit a groan of pain.

"Someone get the lights on!" came Bri's voice in the utter gloom.

Marc groped his way towards the sound. "Mia!" he called. "Where are you?"

"You will not get away!" Returned Seeker Bright Moon's exclamation from right in front Marc. It sounded like her jaw was clenched tight in anger. Her words coming out almost like a hiss of a snake.

Anger surged in Marc as well. Crouching low, he lunged towards her in the midnight blackness. He collided with the legs of who he assumed was Bri for a woman's startled cry came out of the dark. "I am going to rip you to pieces!" raged Marc to where the Seeker had fallen.

He struck out to inflict more damage on the wretched Seeker but his hand only hit the stone floor. Rising up he meant to continue striking into the abyssal darkness until he found Bright Moon when a small hand landed on his.

"Brother Marc," whispered Mia's voice, "stop playing with the bright eyes and let's go."

A sudden stab of light came from further down the tunnel. One of the Seekers had managed to pull out a flashlight and turn it on. It's was not very powerful, but in this absolute night of the tunnels, it bloomed brighter than a spotlight on center stage. Panning it about the Seeker managed to illuminate his jumbled companions. All of them within easy reach of Marc and Mia.

"Nope!" announced Marc as he took in the group of encroaching Seekers. His hand tightened on Mia's and he spun them around. They had only short seconds to make their escape before the Souls could reorganize and give chase.

Before them lay a Seeker on the ground from where Marc had hit him. With a running jump, Marc leaped over the doubled-over man, dragging Mia along. The light from the single flashlight began to fade as they raced down the corridor. Waiting darkness was right ahead of them.

A shot rang out from behind them and Marc could practically feel the bullet whiz past his ear. Fear and adrenaline pulsed in his body and every muscle in Marc's legs surged with the singular goal of running faster than he had ever done before.

The light behind them dwindled quickly. Shouts from the pursuing Seekers were drowned out over the heavy thudding of Marc's heart. With his hand still tight on Mia's, he thought about picking the girl up and carrying her. But she was keeping up and they needed every second.

In absolute darkness, they ran. Utterly panicked, Marc dashed forward blindly. He stumbled repeatedly but each time managed to right himself before falling over. By the purest of coincidences, they moved down a straight section of tunnel. Otherwise, Marc would have surely run headlong into a tunnel wall. After nearly a minute Mia gave a tug on his hand. "This way," she gasped out between sucking in air.

There was nothing in front of Marc but empty nothingness. He could just have as easily been floating the depths of empty space a million lights years from the nearest star. "How?" he breathed out as they ran but knew as soon as he spoke. Mia had been running with her free hand out, lightly tracing the wall of the tunnel. It was an old trick his people had perfected when traveling in these pitch-black passageways. Providing both a way of orientating yourself when you could not see your own hand in front of your face and identifying when you came to one of the many side tunnels. Like the one they must have just run past.

"Com'on," said Mia, giving a stronger tug on Marc's hand. She was trying to turn them around and head back for the side tunnel.

"No time," grunted Marc, "they'll be on us in seconds."

"Is time," insisted Mia. "Can't out run them, got to get around the bright eyes."

Marc tripped on another unseen rut in the floor. Blindly running through these tunnels was ill-advised even in the best of times. He needed to calm down.

"Okay…okay," he sputtered out as they slowed. "Let's take the side tunnel."

Turning around, Marc put out his hand to probe for the tunnel wall. His hand shook as it made contact with the old brick and mortar wall. His heart felt like it was about to punch his way out of his chest. "W-What happened back there?" he asked shakily.

"Bright eyes had you cut open, going to put a little wiggly worm in your head," explained Mia.

"What…" gasped Marc and his hand shot to the back of his head. Feeling the incision line on the nape of his neck and the warm slickness of blood on his hand, he let out an involuntary shudder. That had been far too close.

Reaching the side tunnel and turned into it. Marc was about to ask Mia how she had managed to find him and get past the Seekers when the girl tensed.

"They're coming," she whispered.

At first, Marc heard nothing and saw no indication of light, but that changed in a few seconds. Footfalls, many of them, were coming from down the tunnel they had just come from. The Seekers were moving and without using flashlights. Marc and the others had run into this before, night vision equipped Seekers had hunted for them down here in the past. But they had never been this close.

Fear was becoming a cold pit of despair in Marc's stomach. He was still disorientated and rattled from his near insertion. They needed a plan fast or they would be facing recapture or worse.

"…Tunnel branches," echoed a voice from the darkness.

The Seekers were close. But they were loud, a noisy intruder in the tunnels. A tight ball of anger was building in Marc. Closing his eyes, he focused his rage on something useful. In the pitch black night surrounding him, it would seem to be an utterly pointless gesture, but it gave Marc the stability to center his mind. They were in the old freight tunnels running deep under the city. Long ago the tunnels had been built to run telephone lines and transport supplies to buildings around the city. This old, decrepit maze of corridors and passageways belonged to him. They were his home and he knew them like few others.

"Brother Marc," breathed Mia, "they're real close."

Marc opened his eyes to the emptiness before him. He knew where they were. An intersection of multiple tunnels was up ahead. "Silent run, one hundred twenty steps, then left, and we're in the pillars," he whispered.

"M'kay," came Mia's hushed response. Her hand tightened on his and Marc tensed his body. They moved again, this time a fast loping walk. Careful placing of each foot in front of the other. Hands out to their sides as they traced the edges of the walls. Moving silently in the inky darkness.

"…Can't have gone far," came a voice from behind them. Marc steadied himself. The Seekers seemed like they were right on top of them, but sound carried a long way down here.

"There're no lights…How can they…?" came another.

"Lots of practice," Marc muttered silently to himself at the unseen Seeker's question to how they could navigate.

Sixty steps in, half way to his chosen hiding spot, Mia tripped on some undetected debris on the floor. A hollow thud came from her faltered step and the two fleeing humans froze.

A chorus of voices reverberated in the dark. "Did you hear that? Where did it come from? They can't be…" Then a few seconds later the sounds of a hacking cough could be heard. Loud enough Marc could make a reasonable guess at the Seeker's position. They were still at the opening of the side tunnel. Uncertain about which way to go.

Marc began moving again. This time a little slower. Letting his feet come down slow enough they would not risk bumping into any more unseen obstacles. Coming to their turn, the tunnel walls began to slope away to either side. They were nearing one the larger intersection, multiple passageways meet here. The area divided up into many wide columns, supporting the weight of all that was above. It made for an excellent place to hide and the site made for a natural acoustic listening spot. No one would be able to approach from any direction without them hearing.

They could stop, rest for a moment, and Marc could work out their next move. "Nearly there," he whispered to Mia.

Mia's reply was cut off when something in the dark seized her. She was ripped out of Marc's grasp before he could react. Even before he was able to cry out, a big hand covered tightly on his mouth and an arm wrapped around his chest, pinning his arms.

A low growl of a voice hissed in his ear, "Gotcha you bugger!"

Shock and relief both bounded through Marc as he recognized his attacker. "Dell," gasped out Marc between the big man's hand, "It's me."

"Yeah, one newly inserted Marc Walters leading his new Seekers pals to our home," came the snarl of Dell's voice.

"I ain't got a worm in me. But they're right on our tail," uttered Marc as continued to try to pull himself from Dell's iron grip.

"I'd be seeing your eyes before I believe that," came Dell's response. He could practically feel his friend scowl.

"Listen, you dumbass gang banger," shot back Marc. "We don't have time to screw around. There's a team of them running with down here with their night vision stuff. We turn on any lights we might as well shoot off a flare."

"Huh," chuffed Dell. "Mighty convenient for you."

Marc felt himself being pulled backward, deeper into the intersection. Dell's hand moved off his mouth and touched the back of Marc's neck. One of Dell's thick digits probed the thin insertion cut. The wound still open and oddly barely bleeding.

From nearby Scott's hushed words arose. "Dell, Mia says she had gotten to Marc before they put a Soul into him. He's good."

Hearing his friend, Marc struggled to speak. "Scott, you got away?" But his words came out little more than a puff of air as Dell effortlessly tighten his grip around his midsection.

"Meh," softly snorted Dell after a few more seconds. Marc felt the strong arm holding him fast loosen. "Buggers wouldn't send you out with a gaping hole in your neck. They're too clean for that." Dell paused and added, "You're one lucky son-of-a-bitch."

"Well, if you're done fingering me," cut back Marc in an irritable whisper, "can we get out of here? The four of us can't take on a whole team of Seekers."

"We ain't four…I brought nearly everyone." And from around him in the still darkness, Marc heard a low muttering of voices.

Somehow in this inky midnight, Marc could see Dell's widening grin. He knew he had a spreading smirk of his own. The tables were turning. "They've got their heat vision goggles," he reminded his friends.

"I got something for their fancy little glasses," said Dell.

"Oh?" questioned Marc, curious to Dell's plan. "Got the cloaks?"

Jason's soft reply echoed from nearby. "What do you think this is? Amateur hour? Of course we do."

In the previous months, Bright Moon and her pals had steadily up their game to capture Marc or one of the others. Improving with both tactics and equipment. Infrared sensors and goggles had quickly become one of the Seekers greatest advantages over the Humans who used the shadows to hide. But necessity was the mother of invention and soon Marc's people had an effective counter. Makeshift sewn coats with Mylar blankets woven in could hide their body heat. Rendering the wearer nearly invisible to the high-tech equipment.

As Marc pulled on his own cloak, he heard more tell-tale sounds of the someone approaching. With their night vision equipment, the Seeker could easily see the tunnels they moved through. But they were inexperienced to this underground world and made mistakes. Too much noise gave their position away. Bunching themselves too close together as they move, slowing them down.

"They're coming from the east," whispered Mia's voice

The girl's hearing was excellent considered Marc. Only now could he figuring out which direction the Seekers were coming. Straight down the tunnel Mia and Marc had been originally running. "Alright," he faintly murmured, "Mia you get to the back. This is for us to handle."

"But…"

"No buts," whispered Marc harshly.

In the total gloom around them, Marc and the others began to move. Hands stretched out between themselves, they guided each other with practiced ease. Slowly retreating from the approaching Seeker. Taking up positions behind the support columns and hiding from easy detection. Pressing his back into the cold stone of the pillar, Marc crouched down and waited silently next to Dell and Scott.

The Seekers voices were becoming more distinct. They still did not realize just how well sound travel down here.

"…I would have stayed a Bat if I wanted blunder around in the dark," said a man.

"Please be quiet," came a woman's voice. "Noises may carry further than we realize."

That was Bri's voice, recognized Marc. His hands tightened into fists. Time for some payback.

More coughing erupted for nearby. The Seekers were very close.

"Calm Waters," came the voice of another Seeker, "Are you certain you are well?"

"I will manage," returned a croaked reply.

"Seeker Bright Moon," said the first Seeker, "we need to retreat. We can bring more of us down here and conduct a proper search."

"Perhaps you are right, Twice Fires," came Bright Moon's voice. She was almost right on top of them.

Dell's hushed words came from only inches away from Marc's ear. "Like hell you will." Marc nodded silently.

Marc felt Dell press three fingers into his side. In turn, he pressed three fingers into Scott's shoulder. The signal would be passed on to the others. The countdown had begun.

A foot scuffed the ground less than three feet from Marc. He heard the sudden, surprised intake of breath. But before the unseen Seeker could shout a warning, Dell moved. Uncoiling like a snake from his hiding spot, his arm shooting out.

Marc knew what was coming and closed his eyes. There was a whoosh and then an explosion of light strong enough to penetrate his clenched shut eyelids.

Shoving himself up, Marc risked a peek. Through his half open, light-starved eyes, he could see Dell standing with the flaregun still pointed at the Seekers. The flare apparently had hit the lead Seeker, knocking him to the ground. Subsequence it had rebounded about the intersection, coming to rest right in the middle of the pack of black-uniformed aliens. Red tinted shadows flared and splayed all around the room.

As much as the flare's bright glow was intense for Marc and the others, it was much more damaging to the Seekers. Their night vision equipment temporarily overloaded from the sudden light. They were blind. Marc, Dell, Scott, Jason, and the others rushed forward with a furious cry.

The first Seeker in Marc's path was turning back and forth, his hands grabbing for the harness attaching the optics which covered his eyes. Throwing a swift right hook, Marc caught him in the jaw. The Seeker's head flew back even as Jason barreled into the man.

There came the reverberating sound of a gun firing, but it was badly aimed and hit nothing but empty wall. Shouts and screams came from all around him. Both from victories and from injury.

He saw her. The honey-blonde hair in its telling simple ponytail. She had managed to pull off her goggles and had raised a hand to shield her eyes. The flickering of the flare made her eyes shine with silver. Marc vaulted toward her.

"Bright Moon! Look out!" shouted a Seeker. A tall figure managed to stumble his way into Marc's path.

Fueled by rage, he slammed into the man trying to protect Marc's hated Seeker. His speed sent them both crashing into the blonde woman. A tangle of arms and legs from three bodies crashed to the hard floor of the tunnel.

A low, pained moan came from near Marc as he rose back to his feet. The taller Seeker lay on the ground, unmoving. Bright Moon was pulling herself up as well, but her eyes were locked on the fallen Seeker.

"Calm Waters!" she cried.

A growl clawed out of Marc's throat. She looked up, her eyes widening in terror just as Marc decked her. His blow knocked her right off the ground, landing her in a disheveled heap on the floor. He stood over her fallen form, anger still pulsing its way through his body. He waited for her to move, to get back up so he could continue to his attack. But she did not move and a closer examination showed her to be knocked out cold.

Turning around, Marc looked over the results of the battle. By now almost all the Seekers were down or surrounded by his people. Only one remained free, the big one who had tried to tackle him before. It appeared to Marc the Seeker must have lost his sidearm in their ambush. He was down to fighting with his fists and he was facing off against Dell.

The Seeker's host body had big shoulders, well-muscled arms. He had strength, but no idea how to really fight. As Marc watched, the Seeker struck a punch aimed at Dell, but it was poorly thrown. Dell sidesteped easily and drove his fist into the other man's side.

"Ugh," grunted the Seeker from the blow, but he managed to keep his fighting stance in place. Marc had to grudgingly give the Soul credit. Few of their kind would ever resort to physical fight like this. No, the Seekers strength lay in their numbers, they would use dozens just capture one Human. Preferring ambushes and tricks to outright attacks.

Throwing another punch at Dell, the Seeker attempted to hit the Human in his side. Dell brushed the punch away and sneered, "Pathetic."

Others watching the fight broke out into amused laughs. They were enjoying the spectacle as Dell and the Seeker fought. From the other side of the intersection, Marc saw Kate shake her head, her dark bangs sliding about her face. "Put him down Dell," she said, "this is getting sad."

"I will not be captured by you monsters," declared the big Seeker defiantly.

"Fair enough," replied Dell and dropped all pretenses from the fight. It was a dangerous mistake to think given Dell's size that he was slow-moving. In rapid succession, he landed three powerful blows to the Soul. One to the head and two more to the stomach.

The Seeker fell to his knees, blood running from his busted lip. His breath coming out unevenly between painful moans. Dell stood over him and glowered. "Let's get this done," he rumbled.

By now the flare was dying and the light fading. Shadows were reclaiming them room. Weapons were being collected and passed out to those standing over the captured aliens. Guns the Seekers had only minutes before were being turned on them. A grim silence began and everyone looked to Marc.

Someone pushed a handgun into his hand. Marc looked down at it. Small caliber .22, hardly the deadliest of weapons. But at a point blank range it would work just fine.

A faint groan came from behind him. Twisting around, Marc saw Scott with his own gun covering both Bright Moon and the Seeker she had called Calm Waters. The man was still motionless, apparently knocked unconscious, but she moving. Slowly shifting about, unsteadily rising until she was resting on her knees.

She saw Scott, saw his gun, and froze. Marc strode forward, right up to her. Pushing the barrel of the gun into her temple, he said darkly, "Bad move Bri, very bad move."

A strong shiver ran through Bright Moon and she cringed into the ground. She stared up, and their eyes met. Her blue eyes with their sheen of silver to his brown. There was fear in her eyes, that was to be expected he thought. But there was also a great sadness in her alien eyes. A pleading desperation. And Marc realized he had seen the same before…

_Marc has sat with Autumn Gusting Wind on her back porch step, listening to the Soul. She is still terrified of him, and her fear has driven her to tell a long, almost rambling story, about her coming to Earth. He has understood little of what she has said._

_Her partner (Husband?)_ , _Racing Dawns, wanted to emigrate to Earth. Excited by the tales of the strange human race. They are inserted into a nice older couple named Janice and George. They have to be careful, for this world is still being colonized. The Humans are proving to be resistant to the Souls' latest acquisition (Invasion!)_

_But in time, the two of them grow to enjoy their new life terms. The city is rapidly being assimilated by the Seekers (Assholes dressed in black). But then the accident. They are a cautious people, she insists, careful to avoid danger. But misfortunes still occur. It's a rainy night and the other car's brakes fail. Racing Dawns never had a chance to get out of the way._

_Everyone did everything they could. Racing to the Healing Center (Hospital?), exceeding all speed limits. The Healers (Doctors?) work tirelessly, but it is too late and the damage is too great._

_Her Comforters (Therapist_ _?) have told her that in time the pain will pass. But it does not. Human emotions are so powerful she tells him. She has even begun to think about skipping (Leaving?)_

_Autumn's story is done and now tears flow down her cheeks. She faintly whispers, "And now you will kill me."_

_Marc looks about, still wondering if this is not all some elaborate trick. "Why do you say that?" he finally asks._

_She seems stunned he would question her. With a slow nod, she answers, "It's what your kind do…You are killers."_

_Rising up, he snorts angrily, "You invade us, take over our bodies, and what? We're just supposed to sit back and let it happen!?"_

_With a meek sigh, she replies, "We are making this world better. No more fighting. No more pollution. Starvation and poverty will be gone."_

_'And no more Humans,' thinks Marc but does not say it aloud. He looks back at the bowl of cooked chicken. Her offering for a stray cat. Right now Jason, Kate, and the new kid Scott are hungry in their hiding spot. Would he become a murderer over a plate of food? If he does not, she will contact the Seekers. Standing over her, she looks up. Her eyes are filled with grief, a long stabbing pain. Marc knows this look, for he has seen it before in himself._

_Picking up the dish of food, he begins to walk away. Before the darkness of the night swallows him up he turns back to her. "Not all of us are killers."_

"Hey?" said Scott and Marc breaks out of his memories. "What are we doing here?" He glances back down to where Bright Moon still half sits on the floor. Waiting for him to pull the trigger.

Before he even realized, the words came out of his mouth. "Take them," he ordered.

Shouts of "No!" came from many. Scott looked at him like he cannot believe what he had just heard. "Marc, we can't just bring them back."

"Yes, we can." He turned back to others. Most of them shared Scott's disbelief. But a fragment of a plan is already forming in his mind. "We need to know what they know. How badly are we compromised."

Dell shook his big head back and forth with a stern disapproval. "Marc, they won't talk to us."

Glancing back down to Bright Moon, Marc saw her expression had turned just as incredulous as his own people. With a smirk to her, he said, "Yes they will."


	8. Affliction

"Darren!" cried Healer Ice Setter cheerfully as she took in the sight of the gray-haired Healer entering through the wide glass doors of Northwestern Memorial Hospital. In the busy emergency room of the healing center, Darren had to look around a bit before spotting her. "It so good of you to come in on your day off," continued Ice Setter as Darren sauntered his way over to where she was standing. She was doing her best to stay out of the way of the ever growing crowd.

"Oh, it's no trouble, I'm always happy to help," replied Darren as he took the hospital that was busier than normal. A frown made its way on his wrinkled face. A little concerned, he asked, "Is there a problem?"

"Well," said Ice Setter as she indicated a row of people waiting for treatment, "we're getting a lot of people coming in complaining of a fever and a persistent cough. So far we've been giving dosages of HEAL and COOL. We just need a little additional assistance in distributing the medicine."

Darren nodded and smiled broadly. "Like I said, I'm here to help. Let's get started."

* * *

####

* * *

The words  _'I failed,'_  ran through Bright Moon on Fallen Snow's mind as she was frog-marched along with her fellow Seekers into the unknown depths of the underground labyrinth. Her hands were bound behind her back, a dirty rag shoved into her mouth, and a hood covered her head, largely robbing her of sight and sound. Not there was much to see. The Humans did not seem to need much in the way of light. Navigating these twisting tunnels by some other means.

Hushed words managed to make through the layer of cloth around Bright Moon's head. Straining to hear what was being said, she was almost certainly it Marc Walters talking. She could not catch his words, but his tone was one of angry impatience.

When she had come to after the Humans had ambushed her team, she had seen her fellow Seekers surrounded and defeated. Pulling herself to her knees, she found the barrel of a gun was swiftly pushed against her head. And then Marc's furious voice.

Bright Moon had thought for a moment he would end her, but instead much to her surprise, he had spared her. Ominously declaring that she and the other Seekers would give his people information. She shuddered at the thought, knowing what the Humans had planned. These barbarians would either torture or interrogate her teammates to learn about her people's weaknesses.

_'I was rash,'_  she thought as the hands gripping her arms pulled her along.  _'I should have come with more.'_  With these abandoned corridors explored so many times before, Skyward Into the Night had only authorized a small search party. When they had found the false wall, a carefully constructed trickery made to hide an unknown section of tunnels, she should have immediately called for reinforcements. But she had been so eager to capitalize on her discovery. When she had caught Marc coming through the newly revealed passageway, she had believed her actions right.

But her victory was short-lived. That bizarre human child had completely disrupted her plans.  _'Now, what will happen?'_  When she and the others failed to report in, the Seekers would come in force to investigate. Marc and his rebellious allies would be crushed. But with a sinking feeling she thought,  _'I will not live to see it.'_

The hands holding her in a tight grip brought her to a stop. Nothing but darkness surrounded her, but the sound of something mechanical with creaks and groans reached her ears. She was pulled up a short incline, and the ground underfoot changed from the flat cement floor of the tunnel to something soft and yielding. There were other changes as well, the air was warmer and much less stagnant.

They must be taking her and the other Seekers to their hidden base. There had always been rumors that a few Humans hid in the tunnels and sewage drains crisscrossing under the city of Chicago. Numerous searches over the years had turned up evidence of dwellings and makeshift shelters, but all long abandoned. The city was peaceful since the Souls acquired it, what few wild Humans who had not been captured had evidently left.

However, this belief was challenged a little over a year ago. A young human female managed to penetrate into the city. Initially undetected, she was on a mission to contact others of her kind hidden in the city. Eventually she was found and captured, but not before those hiding made their escape. The revelation there were still Humans hiding in a populated city sent a considerable alarm through the Seekers.

Bright Moon had moved to Chicago when an opening had come up among the ranks of the Seekers in the city. She had been eager to use her skills to discover if there were more humans concealed somewhere in the city. It did not take long before she had a very unexpected encounter with a one Marc Walters.

She steeled herself. Her death might be unavoidable, but she would finally learn where Marc had been hiding. The faintest of glows managed to penetrate the sackcloth around her head. Now there were sounds of doors being opened and closed. Then the light grew much brighter. For a dizzying moment she wondered if she was outside in the sun, not deep underground.

Where ever she was there was much more noise, the sound of many voices, rising and falling rapidly. And it was obvious those speaking were angry and fearful. Not like when she was among her unobtrusive people. Souls were calm and peaceful in all situations. What she heard now was the loud and chaotic noise of wild humans. She tried not tremble.

"Here, bring her over here," said someone. Those holding her let go, and new hands roughly gripped her and pulled her sideways. She stumbled, but the grip clutching her did not relent. Tugged along, she was dragged away from the angry cacophony of voices. The bright light fading as well. After a short distance her feet bumped over a hard protrusion, something raised from the floor and she tripped.

The hand on her arm was the only thing that kept her from falling flat on the ground. With a yank it forced her back to her feet, then it push her down. She fell into what she assumed was a wooden chair for she heard the creak of old wood bowing under her weight. Bright Moon remained still and for nearly a minute there was nothing but darkness and the sound of her own exerted breathing. Without warning the blackness vanished as her hood was pulled off and her gag removed.

Bright Moon blinked and looked around. She was in small, dirty room. The only light came from a dim bulb hanging down from the ceiling on a frayed brown extension cord. She saw the only way into this dingy little room was through a rounded metal door. Instead of a doorknob or handle, a circular wheel protruded from the middle of the door. She realized it was a watertight door and what she had tripped over was part of the seal that made up the doorframe.

Confused, she asked aloud, "Where am I?"

Her question was rhetorical, and to herself, so she nearly jumped in surprise when an irritated voice answered. "None of your damn business, worm."

Startled, she spun her head and saw a middle-aged human standing behind her. He was holding a small gun in one hand. A nervous little twitch went through him when she turned. His arm jerked up and the barrel of the weapon pointed directly at her face.

"Turn around," snapped the man.

Bright Moon met his gaze, willing herself to not show any fear. He glared back at her with a mix of anger and trepidation. Forcing her voice to be calm, she said, "Where have you taken the others?"

"Again, not your concern," he answered stiffly while his weapon remained trained on her.

This Human was not one she had met before. Not in the warehouse nor when they were ambushed. Bright Moon wondered just how many allies Marc Walters had with him. Could he possibly have more than dozen? That seemed very unlikely. It would not matter, she told herself. Their time would soon be over.

Feeling bold she informed her guard, "I will not answer any of your questions."

His lips twisted into a sneer. "I won't be the one asking."

He looked like he was about to say something more when a rusty squeak interrupted. Twisting around, Bright Moon saw the wheel on the hatch-like door began to turn. After a few rotations the door swung opened and Marc Walters stepped into the room.

His eyes went to hers, focused with a sharp fury. But only for a moment, then his gaze flicked to the man standing behind her.

"Mike, I got it from here," said Marc.

The Human name Mike hunched with uncertainty. "You sure?"

"Yeah," replied Marc dryly, "this really won't take long."

Shrugging, Mike headed out the door. After he had left, a long moment passed while Marc and Bright Moon stared at each other. Giving his head a slow shake, Marc said, "Well we really into it now, aren't we?"

"Give up, surrender to me. I will ensure your lives…" began Bright Moon.

"You guys have a lousy sale pitch," said Marc as he cut her off. "Does that line ever work?"

"If you think I'll reveal anything, you are sorely mistaken."

"I think you will," replied Marc. A lopsided smirk started on his face. Bright Moon had seen this mocking smile from him before. She felt her jaw tighten. "Time and time again you set your little traps for me and each time I waltzed right through them. You keep taking your shot, and you keep missing."

"I had you," she countered. "You lay unconscious on the ground before me. A minute more and your body would have been ours."

Marc spread his arms wide, and his grin jacked up a notch. "And yet here I stand, still Marc Walters. Failed again, Bri."

Always with the nickname he had given her. The first time they had crossed paths he had said her name was too long and ridiculous. That she needed a simpler and shorter name. He used 'Bri' as a taunt, deriding her. She felt more muscles in her body tighten.

He crossed his arms and looked thoughtful. "You didn't bring a whole squad with you. Just a handful of Seekers. I bet you're such a continual embarrassment to your colleges you can't wait to prove to them that you were actually right. So what do you? Did you beg and plead to get a few Seekers to follow you down here for one more go?"

With her lips drawn back, Bright Moon retorted through clenched teeth, "Believe whatever you want." She was surprised by how much venom was in her voice. This Human annoyed her like no other.

Marc leaned in. His voice lowering as he got closer. "I believe I get under your skin. I'm the irritating little itch you can't scratch. Most be so aggravating."

He stood over her, the mocking grin on his face only a few inches from her. Without warning the frustration that she had been feeling for days finally came to a boil in her body. She hated him. She hated everything about this despicable man. Such emotions were not common to her kind. Peace and harmony were her people's way. But in this body and at this moment she did not care.

Angry words poured out of her mouth. "I searched every document we had on these tunnels! I mapped every inched! I found where you were hiding! When my team doesn't report back, the others will come. Do you think me so stupid not to leave detailed information where I was going? The other Seekers will amass an army to scour your kind from these tunnels!"

Marc did not even blink at her outburst. He just leaned back at looked up at the ceiling. "Hmm," he mused, "So no one is doing anything yet. Not until you are reported missing. And it will take time to pull all you idiots together to 'scour these tunnels.' At least we've got a little bit of breathing room."

He had baited her, and she had responded. She should have known better. Now her stewing anger redirected at herself. It coursed through her body and made her feel ill. She did not like these Human emotions. So strong. Over powering reason. She let out a frustrated breath that came out almost like a groan.

Her exhale brought Marc's gaze back to her, and he said, "Fell for that one."

"I could easily be lying to you," countered Bright Moon with an attempt to salvage her mistake.

Marc's smile slipped from condescending to exasperation. "There's often truth in anger. Besides, you're not that great of a liar."

Bright Moon sniffed dismissively, deciding she did not want to debate him on the finer points of deception. Humans, after all, were the reigning champions of deceit. "It doesn't matter what you know. Your time in this city is over."

His shoulders twitched in a minor shrug. "Maybe, maybe not."

She just continued to glare at him. After a moment Marc sighed. And Bright Moon thought his expression turned wistful…almost sad.

"Why?" he asked softly. "Why can't you just leave us alone? We weren't hurting anyone. All we wanted was to eke out a little life for ourselves in this hell you made of our world."

More lies and tricks. More attempts to manipulate her emotions. She snorted and said, "Do you really think we would let you and your band of insurgents live down here, planning your attacks on us, building your traps, and who knows what else."

A bitter laugh came from Marc. "Insurgents! What the hell do you think we are?"

Clamping down on her irrational emotions, she coolly replied, "You are a den of killers in our city."

"Killers!?  _Your_  city!?" Now it was Marc's turn to be angry. "Want to see your den of killers?"

He reached out and grabbed her. Yanking her effortlessly to her feet. His grip was unyielding and painful. He pulled her along and opened the door. Again she nearly tripped on the raised doorframe, but Marc forcefully dragged her along. Keeping her from falling. Down a narrow hallway which turned sharply to the right. Once more the light became brighter, far greater than these dimly lit corridors should allow. Marc stopped dragging her and instead callously shoved her forward. Causing her to stumble and drop to her knees.

Behind her, he spat, "There! There is your den of killers!"

She looked up and gasped. The space before her was huge, at least sixty feet tall and more than two hundred across. Multiple entrances ran in and out of the enormous room. In the center and high above were a bizarre cornucopia of different lights tied together in a huge ball to give a near daylight level of brightness. And in this hall were people…many people…all human.

"There are so many," she said in stunned surprise. She saw at least two dozen, young children, older couples, and spectrum of ages in between. Never had she seen so many humans in one place. They were all in middle of frantic activity of packing and preparing. Some of them near to her stopped what they were doing when they saw her. There was fear in their eyes.

"Yes, so many, and the only thing they are guilty of is being human," said Marc as he pulled her back to her feet. He pushed her along, back to the dingy room and her chair. "So there you have it. I was a fool to think just maybe we could have a small slice of life here. But I take it you guys can't see us any other way – All Humans are killers."

Bright Moon just looked at him, still confused by what she had seen. "What are you going to do?"

"Well, Bri," growled Marc cynically, "I guess I'm supposed to do what I'm meant to do. And you get to do what you're meant to do." He paused, thinking it over, and said, "I get to be the barbarian Human, and you get to be the Seeker with a bullet to the back of the head."

* * *

####

* * *

"This is so nuts," said Scott in a near whisper to Kate.

Kate did not answer. She was too busy keeping an eye on their new prisoners. Not that she disagreed with Scott's assessment. Bring the Seekers to their underground liar was not just crazy, it was dangerous. But Marc, as usual, had gotten his way. He insisted he would be able to find out what the Souls had planned. So their rescue team had turned into prisoner escort as they had hauled the captured Seekers down into their hidden sanctuary.

Uncertain what to expect from the more militant Souls, they had divided up the Seekers for easier guarding. She and Scott were watching three of the aliens. Jason and Ross were covering the other four. While Marc was off interrogating Seeker Bright Moon, attempting to get his answers.

Not for the first time Kate had to shake her head at Marc's strange obsession with the blonde haired Seeker. Ever since his run in with Bright Moon a few months back, there had been a slowly escalating feud between the two. In the past their little tribe had always steered clear of the Seekers. But Seeker Bright Moon was particularly adept at hunting them. And Marc had countered with his own creative efforts to throw the Seeker off their trail. His plans had mostly worked…until today.

Their three prisoners sullenly stared back at the two Humans. Two men and one woman knelt at the far end of the empty storage room – now a makeshift jail cell. Their arms and legs were bound to prevent any easy movement. Any inclination the Seekers had to escape their bonds was countered by the old army rifle Kate held in a loose grip. With their weapons taken away, their will to resist had simply vanished. These Souls seemed resigned to their fate.

Scott was continuing to mutter to himself, fretting over how they would handle the latest crises when the Seeker woman abruptly slumped from her kneeling position and hit the bare cement floor. Startled, Scott stopped his rambling and turned his attention to the fallen woman.

"What happened?" he demanded of the other two Seekers.

The Souls exchanged a look but said nothing. Cautiously Kate advanced until she saw a trickle of blood coming from the unmoving Seeker's nose.

"Ah, damn," sighed Kate. "She must have offed herself."

Both she and Scott knew of the Souls' ability to suicide themselves. The alien parasite could shred the inside of the human brain they were attached to. An ultimate defense against being captured and questioned. Given the situation, Kate was a little surprised the Seekers had not tried this sooner.

"Great," groaned Scott as he bent down to get a better look at the unmoving woman. "Just perfect."

Her eyes blinked open. She let out a stifled moan of pain. And Scott, who was reaching to check her pulse, skidded back in surprise.

"What the hell!?" sputtered Scott as he unsteadily found his footing.

Kate could tell the other two Seeker had thought their companion had killed herself. They were clearly just as surprised as the Humans. One of the Seekers flicked his attention from the still alive woman to Kate. His eyes with the alien sheen of silver in them held her gaze. Testing her resolve and seeing what she would do with her rifle. Kate remained watchful but did not move. The Seeker returned his concentration to his stricken colleague.

"Allison," he gently prompted, "Are you alright?"

Kate saw the Seeker, whose name apparently was Allison, blinked again and managed to whimper out, "My head…It…hurts…"

Weakly she struggled to right herself. With her hands tied behind her back, she only managed to get into a half-sitting position on the floor. She flinched as the dribble of blood coming from her nose ran down her cheek. "What…happened?" she asked as she sluggishly turned to face her colleague.

"You suddenly collapsed," said the other Seeker. A slight frown wrinkled his brow. "You did not attempt your final death?"

Allison turned to face Kate and Scott. It appeared to take a good deal of effort. "No…I was feeling ill. This body aches and is too hot." Accusation grew in her fever-bright eyes. Gaining a tiny bit of authority in her voice, she demanded, "What did you Humans do to me?"

"We didn't do a damn thing," snapped Kate. Her hands tightened on the rifle, wary the Seekers might be up to something. "Is this some sort of trick? Did you try to fake a suicide?"

None of them answered. Their eyes were intent upon Kate's weapon. Scott squatted down to rest on his haunches. He reached out to the stricken Seeker. Kate gave him a warning glare, but Scott ignored it. Allison flinched away from his grasp.

"I'm not going to hurt you," said Scott as he gave her a gentle smile. Allison stopped recoiling, and Scott laid a hand on her forehead. After a moment he glanced back to Kate. "She's got a fever. I'm guessing a pretty high one."

"Could still be a trick," countered Kate.

Scott shook his head. "I don't think Souls can manipulate their host bodies like that."

Kate was about to retort that there was still plenty they did not know about the alien parasites when the Seeker, who had so far sat silently, spoke to Scott. "You are correct Human. We cannot alter these bodies' core temperature." Then to Allison, he asked, "When did you begin feeling ill? You were fine when we entered these tunnels."

"I was…" answered Allison. With a little bit of effort, she went continued, "But before we…encountered…Marc Walters…I began to feel…weak. The fever started…not long after we started…the pursuit."

The effort of speaking seemed to have drained the Soul. She wearily closed her eyes and sagged to the floor. Seeing Allison on the ground, the Seeker shifted his body as much as possible given his restraints. Kate tensed and brought up the rifle. The Seeker quickly stopped his movement. Very cautiously he said, "I have a little medical training. Please untie me and allow me to help Seeker Allison."

Scott stood up and gave Kate a 'What should we do?' shrug.

"I don't think so," said Kate to both the Seeker and Scott. "Even if she really is sick, untying either one of you is pretty much the last thing we're doing."

The Seeker's expression turned cold. "You would simply let her suffer?"

"Don't…bother…Seeker Winding Vines," rasped Allison weakly from where she lay. "They mean to…kill…us…all."

Scott gave an unhappy shake of his head. Apparently disturbed by Seeker Allison's accusation. Yet Kate remained impassive. The Seeker was not wrong. Regardless of what Marc managed to get out them, there was only one fate that awaited these Seekers.

Stepping close to Kate, Scott lowered voice down to a whisper so the Seekers could not hear them. "Look, I'm not saying we untie them. But that bleeding from her nose is messed up. And I'm telling you that Seeker's fever has got to be off the charts. Maybe we should get Simon to examine her."

"Why?"

"Com'on Kate," implored Scott. "When have you ever seen a Soul sick like this? Their Healers are always on top of any illness. If she's infected with something, shouldn't we know about it?"

"True," begrudged Kate with an annoyed glower. She still did not like the plan of helping the Seeker. Even if it was only to learn what she was infected with. Kate was also struck by the fact that if Allison was truly sick with some unknown disease, it might be wise to limit the number of people she came into contact. That lead Kate to another unhappy thought, she could already have been exposed to whatever was afflicting Allison.

Scott brightened suddenly, ostensibly struck by a new idea. He turned back to Winding Vines. "How about you tell me what to do, and I'll examine Allison."

The Seeker was apparently surprised by Scott's offer. He pondered the proposal and then nodded his assent.

"Wait a minute," interrupted Kate. Scott was a little too trusting and his unwavering curiosity about the Souls could lead him into trouble. "I'll do it."

Scott scowled but did not argue with her. Nor did Seeker Winding Vines appear to care which Human assisted. Handing the rifle over to Scott, she lowered herself next to Allison's body. The Seeker's eyes were closed, but Kate could see the rise and fall of her chest. She reached out and tentatively touched Allison's head with a single finger. The Soul's skin was indeed hot.

"Alright," she told Winding Vines, "tell me what to do."

* * *

####

* * *

Healer Ice Setter looked down at the Soul she was treating. His young host body's skin was flushed and hot to the touch. He watched her through half-closed eyes, his vitals were again beginning to slip. She had given him a dose of COOL not less than thirty minutes ago. At first, the medicine had worked. The fever broke almost immediately. But now his temperature was again rising as if the treatment had never been applied. She examined the bottle of COOL, wondering if it could be somehow defective.

Healer Darren approached, his normally tranquil face disturbed by a perplexed grimace. "Healer," he began with some reservation, "I am having some difficulties…my patient's fever keeps coming back."

An odd sensation began in her host body's stomach. "I, too, am having difficulties. This one's temperature keeps going up," said Ice Setter, referring to the boy who lay before them. On the other side of the bed sat the boy's guardian, worriedly watching them.

Considering their options, Ice Setter suggested, "It may be possible that this dose of COOL is imperfect in some way, we should try another container."

Darren grew even more uncomfortable and replied, "I thought of this as well, I have already tried a different box. With the same results."

The sensation in Ice Setter's stomach uncomfortably intensified. She had rarely felt in such away before. Placing the feeling and the accompanying emotion was hard. Her host mind identified it as a feeling of dread. She found she did not like this emotion at all.

Shifting her gaze between the boy and Darren, Ice Setter said, "We should talk with Healer Matthew. He will have insight on this problem."

"Is Rain Drops going to be alright?" asked the woman. She was standing now, her hand enfolded with the child's. His eyes were closed, and his breathing was coming out with a slight rasp. His guardian gazed upon him with an expression mixed with both affection and concern.

Ice Setter and Darren exchanged looks, neither Healer knowing quite what to say. They did not want to worry the Soul, but could not lie either. Ice Setter hoped she would not create more stress for the poor woman. Forcing a confident smile onto her face, she explained, "Do not worry. We will be consulting with the Head Healer of this facility, he will know the best course of action."

* * *

####

* * *

Marc angrily strode out of the tunnel leading to where Seeker Bright Moon on Fallen Snow was being held. Glowering, he stormed over to where Dell and Paul sat waiting on a battered picnic table. Only minutes before they had both watched as Marc had dragged the Seeker out and showed her the great hall. Dell wondered what had been the point, but had given up understanding Marc's peculiar obsession with that Seeker.

"Damnable woman," complained Marc as he took a seat next to Dell. "She actually believes we're some type of paramilitary outfit."

"You do realize 'she' is a parasitic alien who thinks all of humanity is a bunch of savage monsters who will kill her kind at the drop of a hat," said Paul.

Marc swiveled to focus his dark and angry scowl at the older man. "Really!? I hadn't noticed!"

Paul held his hands up defensively. "Just saying."

Marc looked away, still fuming, and let out a deep exhale of frustration. Dell regarded his friend for a moment and then said sympathetically, "Look, I know you tried to make this work. Tried to figure out how to live here without fighting with the Seekers."

His fury slowly ebbing away, Marc shifted to face him.

"Man," continued Dell with an amused shake of his head, "when I first came here and heard your plan, I thought you were insane. Yet somehow you made it all work, and we survived. But the Seekers are never going to let us go. And most of the Souls are so wrapped up in thinking how perfect they are, they can't see the horror of what they're doing. This," and he gestured to where the Seekers were being held, "was sadly inevitable."

Dell could see Marc considered his words. His lingering anger finally dissipated, only to be replaced with a grim determination. "Your right. I guess I'm a victim of my own success. We made it here for so long that I thought we were untouchable."

Folding his hands under his chin, Marc leaned forward to face both Dell and Paul. "I think," he said to both men, "The Seekers were on 'fishing expedition.' From what Bri said, she must have realized their maps down here weren't complete. She figured out where to go exploring."

Dell and Paul traded uneasy glances. "Does that mean the rest of the Seekers are on the way?"

"We've got a little bit of time, but not much."

"You sure we can trust what she said?" questioned Dell.

A brief smile made its way on to Marc's face. "I got her so pissed off she blurted out her plans. I think we can trust that."

"It's strange how you can get her so worked up," mused Paul. "Most Souls almost never get angry."

"She's an odd one, even for a Seeker," said Marc softly. His eyes grew distant, becoming lost in thought.

"Marc," rumbled Dell darkly, "you know what needs happen. Like you said, we ain't got a lot of time. We can't let those Seekers go."

Letting out a deep sigh, Marc rubbed his face with the palms of his hands. "Yeah, your right Dell." His eyes tracked to the hallway leading to where Bright Moon was confined. There was a wistful sadness in his eyes. "Get a few people you trust with the guns and let get this over with."

* * *

####

* * *

Opening the door to Healer Mathew's office, Ice Setter saw he was talking on the phone. Not wanting to interrupt, she waited patiently at the doorway until he finished. Ice Setter had tremendous respect for hospital's supervising healer. Mathew had done an excellent job when he took over the position from Healer Fords Deep Waters. Hopefully, Mathew would have insight into why their medicine had abruptly stopped working. She heard the click of the phone receiver and entered the room. Ice Setter started to speak but stopped when she saw the track of tears on his face. He was more distressed than she had ever seen him.

"Healer? What's wrong?" she asked, concerned over his obvious anguish.

Mathew did not answer her question. He took a long steadying breath and looked up at Ice Setter. Absently he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "Yes, Healer, how can I help you?"

"Umm…I'm sorry to interrupt you, but we are having a problem with some of the patients."

Matthew looked down. Another deep sigh came from the Healer. "The medication isn't working, is it?"

Surprised, she asked, "Yes, how did you know?"

Mathew put his head into his hands. Ice Setter saw his shoulders begin to shake. She was by his side in a heartbeat. "Please Mathew," she said as she tried to console him, "tell me what's happening."

Once again Mathew took several breaths in and out to calm himself. He swallowed with some difficulty. "I just got off from a conference call with three other healing facilities. Each one is reporting an increasing number of Souls coming in with an illness that medicine does not treat. They were calling for help. And now you report the same difficulty here."

It was Ice Setter turn to take a shaky breath, the tightening discomfort in her stomach was growing. She sat down heavily in a nearby chair. "Three others," she said in stunned disbelief, "how could all the medication between four sites be faulty?"

"It is still worse," replied Mathew tonelessly, "there has been a death."

"Oh no!" she gasped.

"One of the patients showed a rapid progression of the illness and began to bleed from the nose and the ears. Very soon afterward the host body expired." Matthew then added very softly, "and so did the Soul."

Ice Setter shuddered and felt her own tears welling up. "What do we do?"

Matthew rose out of his chair. "I am a not sure yet, but we must act quickly, or there will surely be more deaths. Please show me your patients who are ill."

* * *

####

* * *

Simon packed medical gear into his bag. While he was in a hurry, he was doing his best to carefully store the delicate instruments. The Seekers would be coming soon, if not already on their way now. Time was short. Debating what he absolutely needed and what could be left behind, Simon looked down at his makeshift desk. Papers, books, and a few empty cartons of HEAL sat on it.

Then his eyes focused on a small picture half hidden under a pile of notes. "Can't forget this, he said out loud. It was the only remaining photo he had of her. No matter what happened, he could not lose it.

Behind him, Sister Mary-Margret cleared her throat. "Did you say something, Simon?"

Simon heard an unmistakable rasp in her voice. He stopped what he was doing and spun around. The old nun was in the middle of packing up the Soul medicine. They would not be resupplying with the miracle medicine anytime soon. They would need to take as much as they could.

He saw how flushed her face was. "Mary-Margret, are you alright?" he questioned, uncertain if her feverish color was from the work to pack up the makeshift hospital or if it was a reoccurring illness.

"I'm fine…just need…a…" But even as she spoke, her thin body swayed and then fell. Simon rushed forward and caught her before she hit the floor. Her skin was far too hot. She moaned in his arms.

Panicked, Simon yelled, "Somebody help me!"


	9. Deterioration

"Mommie I do'dn feel good."

Sarah was in the middle of packing when she heard her daughter's distressed cry. She, like everyone in their small underground home, was frantically trying to grab what they could before the Seekers came.

_'Well, before_ more _Seekers come,'_ thought Sarah darkly.

Mike had gone off with Dell and the others to last ditch effort to rescue Marc. Or, if he had already been taken over by one of the parasites, take him out before he offered up too many of their secrets. Everything had happened so quickly, she did not have time to fret over the danger Mike would be in. He and the others had managed to rescue Marc and capturing the Seekers. But word had quickly spread the danger had not passed. More Seekers would soon be on the way.

Dropping a bundle of clothes she was carrying, Sarah was by her child's side in a few scant seconds. It was easy for her. In their tiny bedroom Alexis's bed, really just a sleeping back stuffed with some pillows, lay right next to mattress she and Mike shared. Hardly any space for three people, let alone the soon to be born fourth member of their little family.

With some difficulty, Sarah lowered herself down beside Alexis's bed. It seemed her growing midsection was making moving around more challenging by the day. "What's wrong baby?"

Her daughter rubbed at her face with the back of her hand. "Hot," she whimpered.

Touching Alexis's forehead, Sarah could feel the heat practically radiating off her daughter's skin. The fear only parent could have swelled in her. "Oh, baby, you're burning up."

Alexis moaned again. Sarah tried to clamp down on her growing fears. With all the dangers they faced this was not the time to lose one's head. She looked back down at the clothes she was folding and preparing to pack. Family first, clothes could come later. With some effort, she scooped up Alexis. Going on four years old, she rarely liked being picked up this way. But not now. She only squirmed a bit in her mother's hold as she tried to get comfortable.

"It's okay sweetie," whispered Sarah. "We're going to see Simon. And Mary-Margret. They'll make you feel better."

"Want daddy," sniffled Alexis.

With Alexis in arms, Sarah opened the door of their tiny home and started to make their way to the hospital. "I know, baby," said Sarah in soft tones, trying to soothe her daughter. "But daddy's busy right now."

* * *

####

* * *

Ross turned the handgun over, eagerly studying it. The pistol's polished black body was devoid of any marks or scratches. It looked brand new. Or, more likely, the Seeker Ross had taken it from had resolutely kept the weapon in pristine condition. Ross had watched the parasites long enough to see many of them had a near obsessive compulsion to keep things clean and neat. He turned it over one more time and then warped his hand around the grip of the gun.

It felt solid, strong, and deadly in his hand. He liked it. Stretching his arm out, Ross focused down the gun sight. The Seeker he was aiming at paled and began to tremble.

From beside him, Mike put out an annoyed grumble. "Put that down before you hurt someone."

"I think that's kind of the point," replied Ross to the older man.

He continued holding his new toy, pointing from one Seeker to the next. There were four of them. Each one securely tied up and restrained. The Seekers looked terrified as Ross targeted them. Even the big one Dell had beaten up. The athletic looking Seeker tried to hide it, but Ross saw the fear in his eyes. However, not the last one. He was a tall skinny guy with thinning hair, he did not react at all. He just sat there. His skin pale and sweaty. The Seeker seemed to barely register what was going on.

Jason who, along with Mike and Ross, was waiting to get the go ahead and finish off the Seekers, shifted back and forth against some old plumbing in an attempt to get comfortable. The crumbling pipes crisscrossed this part of tunnels and did not give much space for the captives or their captors. At some point long ago they had carried pressurized steam for heating the city far above them. But now they were just cold and damp. Their little enclave of humanity rarely used these tunnels for anything other than disposal of unwanted trash. A fitting end for the Seekers.

Stonily eyeing Ross, Jason replied, "It is, but we don't do anything until we get the word. And we've haven't gotten the word, so put the piece away."

Ross snorted. "We waiting till your boy Marc makes up his mind?"

Pushing himself off the decaying pipes, Jason took a measured step towards Ross. "Yeah, we are."

"Always the good little dog for your owner?" questioned Ross at Jason's wiliness to always follow his friend's lead. He enjoyed the flush of anger on shorter man's face.

"Boys," admonished Mike, "calm down. We need to keep our cool."

"This is stupid to wait," snapped Ross as he continued to wave the gun at the Seekers. "We should have finished these bastards off when we first got them."

With an unexpected fast move, Mike grabbed Ross's wrist and forced the gun to point to the ground. Ross was surprised at the amount strength and speed in man's grip. He struggled to break free, but could not.

Leaning into him, Mike's grip tightened until it became painful. Ross tried to push him away, but Mike's hand twisted hard to the left. The younger man lost his grip on the gun, and it clattered to the ground.

"Now listen to me," said Mike in an angry whisper into Ross's ear. "I know exactly how you feel. I've got a family here. I want these things gone as much as you. But we've survived down here by being smart and careful. And we're going to continue that trend. Go it?"

Fury building, Ross tried to buck Mike off. He reared back, trying to shove his elbow into Mike's side. All his efforts earned him was a sharp kick in the shin from the other man. "You're so goddamn quick to wave that gun around," hissed Mike. "You ever actually used one? I don't think so. You're too reckless kid. And being reckless gets people killed."

Letting him go, Mike stooped down to retrieve the gun. Ross glowered at the man while rubbing his wrist. But he did not try to stop him. Standing back up, Mike currently informed him, "I'll hold on to this for now."

Feeling humiliated, Ross stewed over a biting comeback. However, he was interrupted by one of the Seekers. Up until now, the aliens had not said a word since their capture. Not to the Humans and not even to each other. But now one of their four captives spoke to the others. "They attack each other over who gets to do the killing. Animals. They're nothing but horrific animals."

Ross felt his anger towards Mike shift effortlessly to the Seekers. They were the enemy. They were the threat. In a near growl, he spat back, "If you treat people like animals, hunt them like animals, don't be surprised if they turn and bite you like animals!" He closed the distance to the four huddled Seekers and added, "Want a demonstration!?"

With hands balled into fists, he towered over the Seeker. They all looked up at him, each with their alien silver ringed eyes. Waiting for the blows to come. Ross felt a hand on his arm, someone gently pulling him back.

"Easy now," said Mike from behind him. "Just calm down, Ross."

Still fuming, Ross yanked his arm out of Mike's grip and marched back down from his fellow Humans and the damnable Souls. He wanted nothing more to do with this ridiculous guard duty. So he almost did not hear another Seeker speak up.

"Please, can you tell me what you've done with Bright Moon on Fallen Snow?"

The voice was weak and raspy, but there was a distinctive plea in the feeble request. The question came from the Seeker who had not flinched when Ross had pointed the gun at him. The man still had not moved, but nonetheless looked even paler and sweatier than before.

"You mean the head Seeker, the blonde haired one?" asked Mike, a bit surprised at the question. The Seeker slowly nodded, and Mike replied, "Marc's been interrogating her."

Jason snorted derisively. "Talk? Lucky if that's all he does …Marc's been working himself up over that Bright Moon. He probably wants to be one to kill her."

"I would like to speak to her…before the end," came the thin reply. He now was gazing at Ross and the others. There was a desperate longing in his glassy-eyed stare.

The three Humans looked at each other over the odd request. Mike made an uncommitted shrug of his shoulders, and Ross did not really care to answer. It was Jason who responded with a cold, amused laugh. "Why should we? What makes you think we're granting last requests? Would you do that for me I was sitting where you are now?"

The Seeker frowned. He appeared to give Jason's combative answer real consideration. "Perhaps," he said slowly, "I would. If there was no harm in the request, why wouldn't I grant it?"

A bit surprised by the answer, Jason finally spat back, "Well, we don't feel like granting it. You're not going anywhere."

The pale looking Seeker's face fell. Then the big man, the one who looked like he lived in the gym, began struggling against the ropes holding him fast. Through brute strength, he managed to force his way to his feet. His binding still held him, but his efforts were more than enough to have Mike and Jason pull out their guns.

"Get back on the ground!" ordered Mike.

Ignoring the command, the Seeker's gaze moved between the Humans and the one who had asked to see Bright Moon. He appeared to be judging the situation and not liking what he saw. "Seeker Calm Waters Below, you should not talk with these Humans."

The Seeker on the ground grew even more ashen. "But Seeker Twice Fires, I just want to know…"

"Say nothing more," commanded Seeker Twice Fires. He then looked pointedly at Ross, Jason, and Mike. "Your rebellion here is over…We will soon be coming in force."

"That right?" said Ross. "Cause you lot have done a bang-up job of handling us so far."

"When we are reported missing, the others will come to find us. It is only a matter of time."

"And we'll wipe them out as well!" challenged Ross.

Twice Fires laughed. A genuine note of contempt came in his words. "There will be hundreds of us. Enough to fill these tunnels. If you're kind were even remotely sensible you would surrender peacefully."

Ross turned back to Mike and Jason. "Can we just shut him up? Permanently?"

Jason's dark eyes were angrily fixed on the Seekers. He was seriously considering Ross's request. But Mike shook his head. "No," he said, pointing to the large Seeker and then to the sickly one. "Don't you see? He's worried this one might give something up." Mike leaned down over the pasty-faced one. "Your name is Calm Waters Below?" When the Seeker meekly nodded, Mike asked, "Why do you want to see Bright Moon so badly?"

The sound of someone approaching down the tunnel diverted their attention away from the Seekers. Footfalls echoed up and down the dark corridor. Coming out of the shadows, Kate came to a stop before the three men. She had their old rifle slung over her shoulder. Glancing at the four Seekers and then to Ross and the others, she asked, "How are you guys holding up?"

"Well enough, given the situation," sighed Jason in reply. He peered down the tunnel. "What are you doing here? Are we getting on with a firing squad or what?"

Kate's attention had refocused on the captured Seekers. "Nope, we're still waiting for Marc. But something has come up."

"Like what?" questioned Ross, feeling a touch of worry over Kate's comment.

"Are any of them sick?"

"What?"

"Sick, you know. Sick like having the flu, but way worse."

Ross, Jason, and Mike exchanged confused looks. Ross was about to ask what she was going on about, but Kate had already bent down over Calm Waters Below. She reached out a hand towards the Seeker. He recoiled, but Kate's hand forced its way onto his forehead.

"Just like I thought, you've got a runaway fever."

It had not occurred to Ross that Calm Water Below's pale and sweaty skin was caused by an illness. He had just assumed the Seeker's poor appearance was because he was frightened. Honestly, he had never seen a Soul sick before.

Kate began questioning the Seeker. "Have you taken anything? How long have you been like this?"

Calm Waters Below did not answer. His eyes flicked to Twice Fires and then to the ground. Jason broke in, "Kate, what's going on?"

Standing back up, Kate replied, "I've got one sick as well. Really sick. And it apparently came on very quickly. She said she was feeling fine when she entered the tunnels."

This drew a response from Calm Waters Below. "Who is it?" he asked.

"Calm Waters Below, do not talk to these Humans. They will offer nothing but lies and treachery," insisted Twice Fires. He was still standing, obstinately trying to break his bonds.

Kate coolly regarded the large Seeker. She then pulled her rifle from her shoulder and took aim at Twice Fires. "Just so you know, a bullet wound to the stomach is not fatal. But it is very, very painful. So would you kindly shut up and sit down."

At the sight of the rifle, Twice Fires stopped moving. The large Seeker glared at Kate and her weapon, but he did as she ordered. Kate remained holding her gun at the ready until she was sure the Seeker would offer no more trouble. When she was satisfied, she slung the rifle back over her shoulder.

Returning her focus back to the stricken Calm Waters Below, she asked, "So what's your deal?"

* * *

####

* * *

Marc took Mary-Margret's hand in his as he sat next to the old Nun. She lay on one of the narrow cots in the hospital. Her long gray hair, usually tied back in a tight bun, lay sprawling around her head on the pillow. With her eyes closed, she almost looked serene and peaceful. But Marc could feel the heat on her skin. See the perspiration on her forehead.

"What's wrong with her?" asked Marc.

"She's been pushing herself far too hard for the last few days. She passed out from a combination of dehydration and exhaustion," explained Simon. "But the real problem is this infection. Nothing I do seems to have an effect on it."

"The Soul medicine isn't working?" asked Marc with a frown. "When has that stuff ever not worked?"

"As far as I know, never," answered Simon irritably. "I'm still figuring it out. I know stuff like HEAL is able to directly target damaged tissue and repair it. But I can't tell you why it's not working on Mary-Margret."

Marc looked over their improvised hospital and gave a sad shake of his head. Most of it had been packed up and was ready to go. He placed the Sister's hand back on the cot. She stirred slightly with a faint moan but remained asleep. Marc leaned back and closed his eyes for a weary moment. They didn't have time for this, who knew how many Seekers would soon be down here.

He snapped his eyes open and focused on Simon. "Well if their medicine is on the fritz, what else can be done?"

Simon sighed. "Well, not a lot. Back before the invasion, I would have used a strong, broad spectrum antibiotic to treat this type of infection. But even if we had the time, I don't remotely have the equipment to make something that powerful."

Getting up, Marc asked, "Can you make sure she's not in pain? Get her ready to travel?" He saw Simon's features twist into a scowl. The man had never had the best bedside manner, and he was rapidly spinning himself up for a healthy tirade.

Holding up his hands, Marc attempted to cut the doctor off before he could begin to rant. "Look, I get it. Mary-Margret isn't in great shape, and the last thing you want to do is move her. But Doc, we are fast running out of time."

Simon was about to respond when Sarah, cradling Alexis, appeared at the entrance of the hospital. With her pregnancy, the challenge of transporting her first born was a difficult one. She struggled as she carried the apparently unhappy Alexis. A steady stream of whimpers and sniffles came from Sarah's young daughter. Simon was quickly by her side and carefully took the sobbing girl into his arms.

"Simon, I know everything is a mess, but it's Alexis. She's gotten a fever and is coughing. Can't you give her something before…" Sarah trailed off as she caught sight of the sleeping nun. "What's wrong with Mary-Margret?"

Laying Alexis down on an empty cot, Simon replied absently, "She's sick. Pushed herself too hard." He began checking the girl over. Marc could clearly see Alexis's face was flushed with a fever. Producing a thin glass thermometer from his jacket pocket, Simon carefully put the tip of the device into the girl's mouth. After half a minute he pulled the thermometer out and looked at the results.

"One hundred and two," announced Simon with a deep sigh. Getting up, he asked Sarah, "How long ago did the symptoms start?"

"Less than half an hour ago. With everything that's been happening, it might have been longer."

Simon's earlier irritation was rapidly being replaced with a grave expression as he continued to examine the girl. "Another fever, great" he muttered darkly to himself. Addressing Alexis, Simon's forced out a lighter tone for Alexis. "Honey, where do you feel bad?"

"My neck, it hurts," moaned the little girl.

"It's her lymph nodes," said Simon as he pressed two of his fingers on the nape of Alexis's neck. "They've swollen up." He frowned and added, "…just like Mary-Margret's."

Still frowning, Simon went over and retrieved a dispenser of the COOL medicine. He pulled off one of the light blue tissue squares and held it up to the girl's mouth. Sarah gently prompted her daughter to swallow the medicine. When she did so, Sarah sighed in relief as Alexis's color began to improve.

"At least that's taken care of," said Sarah.

"Maybe," offered Simon cryptically. His eyes were glued to his watch, obstinately checking the time. Sarah remained by her daughter's side, confused by the doctor's actions. But Marc was beginning to get a foreboding feeling about what Simon was doing.

Marc stepped up to the man. Keeping his voice low, as to not needless worry Sarah, he questioned Simon, "You think it the same thing as what Mary-Margret got?"

"I don't like coincidences," murmured Simon. "If it is the same illness affecting Alexis, the fever will start to come back. Not as high as before, at least not at first. It's like the COOL gradually begins to break down. After about an hour it loses all effectiveness."

Marc asked Sarah, "When was the last time Alexis was around Mary-Margret?"

She had to think for a moment. "Umm, not yesterday…But the day before. Alexis has been learning the alphabet. She spent most of the afternoon with Mary-Margret." Sarah gazed at her daughter and then to the sleeping nun with a look of concern. "What's going on here?"

Simon did not answer. He once again took Alexis's temperature. He shook his head sadly at the results. "Ninety-nine," he reported.

"But…Doesn't that COOL stuff take a fever away almost instantly?" questioned Sarah. "And it doesn't come back, right?" Lines of worry were rapidly crossing her face.

"Either there is something wrong with the medicine we've got. Or, there is a new flu bug in town, and it knows how to beat the Souls' medicine," explained Simon. "Mary-Margret started showing signs this morning. Now Alexis is displaying the same symptoms."

Sarah took all this in, and Marc could see the panic beginning to build in her eyes. Interceding, Marc took hold of Sarah by her arms. He felt a tremor run through her. "It's okay. We're going to figure it out. We'll get more medicine. We'll take care of both Alexis and Mary-Margret."

It was a complete lie, and Marc hated himself for speaking it. But it also worked. The overwhelming panic that was about to swallow Sarah whole began to retreat. Letting out a shaky sigh, she took a seat next to Alexis. "You sure you can find some working medicine?"

"Absolutely," answered Marc with a false smile. And hated himself even more.

Sarah was willing to believe him because she needed to believe for her daughter's sake. But the doctor saw right through him. As Marc made his way to the tunnel leading back towards the great hall, Simon caught him by the arm.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" hissed Simon angrily. "I'm not going to go along with your peddling of false hope."

"I'm just trying to stop Sarah from panicking," hissed back Marc. "That can kill faster than any disease." He pushed down a good portion of his own fears. "We're tapping dancing on the edge of the abyss here."

"What do you want me to do?" grumbled Simon

"Well if you can't find some false hope, then try finding a real one," answered Marc with a sly, but ultimately meaningless grin.

Extracting his arm from Simon's grip, Marc took one last look at Sister Mary-Margret and Alexis. He then left down the corridor. When Marc was safely out of sight and hearing from Simon and Sarah in the hospital, he stopped. Here the passageway was part of old mason tunnels built more than a century ago. Decaying brickwork had been patched in places to keep the tunnel walls stable. Marc smashed his fists in frustration against the wall hard enough to shake loose some of the weaker bits of plaster.

"Damn it…" he groaned from the pain of his pointless punch.

Marc leaned back against the crumbling wall and took several deep breaths. Dell and the others had been nearly ready to execute the Seekers when news reached them that Mary-Margret had collapsed. He seized on finding out what had happened to the old nun and had put a hold on their coming grim deed. Now this flu, or whatever it was, was just one more thing to go wrong. Everything was ready to spin out of control. Yet he was the one everyone turned to when things went bad. He felt like he was one man trying to hold back a tidal wave.

If he was completely honest with himself, Marc knew why we had stayed the Seekers execution. It had not been just for the nun. Mary-Margret was important to everyone in their little underground home. But there was someone else who had made him reluctant to end the Seekers, even if he knew their murders were necessary.

Autumn Gusting Wind.

They had a narrow window to get rid of their captured Souls and make a gateway. To find a new hiding spot. They would need to weather the coming storm as the Seekers found this place and tore it apart to learn how thirty Humans had managed to live right under their noses. If Marc and the others were lucky, they would survive. But then he would have to face Autumn. She would know what he had done. What would be the most damning is she would not blame him. She would still do her best to protect them. Yet Marc knew he would see the pain in her silver-ringed eyes. The torture she would endure by being pulled in two directions. Her loyalty to her people and her love for Marc…

_It's been just over a month since Autumn found him going through her garbage cans. Marc and the others have had to move twice since then. The Seekers are relentless, and there are fewer and fewer places to hide. However, Marc has noticed a pattern with these aliens. Once they take over an area and believe they are in control and all Humans are gone, they drop their guard. They are so trusting of each other. There are no lies. Everything becomes free. Scott calls it being behind enemy lines in bizarro world. But whatever you want to call it, Marc has a small, but workable, room to maneuver._

_For the last three nights, he's watched the house from a distance. Every evening the parasite takes a plate of food and puts it on the back steps of her porch. And then it waits. At first, Marc figures it's a trap. This Autumn What-ever-her-name-is parasite is trying to coax him out with the food. If he goes to take the dish, a dozen black dressed goons will jump out to get him. But after an exhaustive searching, he's found there is no one else here. It's just the one parasite._

_Keeping to the shadows, he creeps in behind her. The night is still and silent. When he almost close enough to reach out and touch her, he speaks normally. "Still looking for that cat?"_

_Autumn nearly jumps out of her skin. Her shriek gets strangled in her throat by her own surprise. She trembles before him._

_For some reason Marc feels like a complete bastard for frightening her so much. She's gaping at him like she's just caught him stabbing a basket full of kittens. He hangs his head and says in a whisper, "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."_

_"H-H-How d-did you d-do that?" she manages to squeak out._

_"What? Sneak up on you?"_

_"Y-Yes. I heard nothing until you spoke."_

_Marc shrugs. "I'm just good at hiding."_

_"You must be. The Seekers say that almost all the Humans in the city are gone. That none remain in this neighborhood. But you're still here."_

_Marc can't keep the irritation out of his voice. "Yeah, I'm still here. This city was my home long before you lot came. I don't see why I should leave."_

_Autumn picks up on the anger in his words. Staring at the ground, she replies. "If you come with me, we can go to an insertion site. It will be quick. Then you wouldn't need to hide. You wouldn't have to be hungry."_

_To Marc's ears, her speech sounds completely rehearsed. There is no emotion in her words or conviction. She has recited it as if it's expected of her. He cocks his head to the side and asks in genuine curiosity, "Is that why you bring food out here and sit for hours? Hoping to lull me in? And then get me captured?"_

_A confused frown makes its way onto her face. "No, I just…well…I just didn't want you to be hungry."_

_"Your kind is hunting us to extinction, and you're worried about one person being hungry?"_

_"It's not extinction. It's…" she trails off and then shakes her head. "You don't understand."_

_"No I don't, and I don't want to understand," replies Marc coolly._

_This is a mistake he realizes. It might not be a trap in the conventional sense. But the parasite still means to convince him to turn himself in. Even if she doesn't completely believe what she's saying. He steps off the porch and retrieves the plate._

_"Thanks for the food," he says without turning around._

_"Please don't go." Her words are so soft. She suddenly sounds like she's almost ready to start crying._

_He turns around to find her standing. She is on the short side and more than a little stout. He could easily out run her. "Why should I?" he questions._

_The tears threatening to fall begin to pool in her strange alien eyes. "I don't have anyone to talk to…"_

The sound of someone walking down the tunnel brought Marc out of his reverie. Within a few moments, he saw Kate come around the corner. As soon as she spotted him, her pace picked up. "Marc, we need to talk."

A near groan worked its way out of Marc. "What is it now?"

Kate dragged a few of her longer bangs out of her face. She learned back on the opposite side of the wall from Marc. Crossing her arms, she began to explain. "Look I know we need to get rid of the Seekers. But something is up with a few of them. They're sick."

"What?"

"That's what everyone seems to be saying," said Kate with a shake of her head. "At first I thought it might be some sort of trick. You know how they can be. But after checking two of them over, I don't believe that they're faking. And whatever they've got, I don't think their medicine can fix it. I was going to see Simon…"

"Whoa, back up there," interrupted Marc, suddenly becoming very interested. "You said their medicine isn't working?"

"Yes," nodded Kate. "One of them took some COOL before coming down here. And for awhile it was working. But his fever…"

Marc cut in again "…came back."

Kate froze. "How did you know that?"

A shiver went through Marc's spine. He pushed off from the wall. "Mary-Margret and now Alexis are sick. They have a fever that COOL apparently can't fix. Simon has no idea why."

Kate's eyes went wide. "Marc," she began, "one of these Seekers is in bad shape. Like, I think,  _dying_  bad shape. I was worried they might spread this disease around. But it's already too late."

"That doesn't track," said Marc as he began to pace back and forth in the tunnel. "Mary-Margret got sick this morning. Well before the Seekers started poking around down here. And Sarah wouldn't let Alexis anywhere near those Seekers."

"But then that means we've already been exposed to…well…whatever this illness is," put in Kate. Growing distinctly unhappy, she added, "We all could come down with this flu thing."

An inkling of an idea started forming in the back of Marc's mind. He could not put it into words, not even really a solid thought. But Kate's added information about this strange sickness buzzed in his head. They need to know more and quickly.

"These sick Seekers, are they manageable?" he asked Kate as he continued to pace. "Can you safely move them ?"

"One of them is barely conscious, and the other could be knocked over in a stiff breeze."

Stopping his pacing, Marc ordered. "Bring one of them to Simon. Let him examine them. See what he can find out. Make sure you keep plenty of guards on the others. I don't want them trying to take advantage of the situation."

Kate was nonplussed but did nod in acknowledgment. With his mind made up, Marc started to walk again, towards the great hall. After a moment, Kate followed after him. "Where are you going?"

"To get some answers," replied Marc.

* * *

####

* * *

Bright Moon on Fallen Snow sat tied to the chair in the small, dirty room. She had repeatedly tried to break her bonds but to no avail. Her arms were pulled back behind her back and secured so tight she had lost all feeling in her hands. Further, her feet were strapped together and then in turn tied to the to the floor. It forced her into a very uncomfortable sitting position.

When Marc had angrily declared he was no longer going to pretend to be anything other than a savage, she thought he would end her life right away. But he had stormed off and left her alone. As time slipped by, she kept wondering when he would come back and do his bloody deed. But he had not. She considered he was finding one more torment to do to her before the end. Making her wait and not know when he would return or what had become of her fellow Seekers. She found it to be a particularly cruel form of torture.

At the very least she was no longer blindfolded. But the only thing she could see was the curved door to her cell. The room, as far as she could see, was completely empty. Whatever the humans used this space before, they had removed everything. To occupy herself she was trying to make sense out of the huge room she had seen and all the Humans within. How could her people have missed such a massive place?

Her attention was pulled back when the wheel on the water tight door began to spin. With a squeaky groan, it opened and Marc stepped inside. His eyes immediately locked onto hers.

_'This is it, he's going to kill me,'_  she thought. Oddly she found herself unafraid.

Marc came to a stop before her. A faint grin appeared on his face, and he said, "You're coming with me."


	10. Mercy

"What exactly do you want me to do with this…person?" asked an irritated Simon as he peered down at the sick man laying on one of the hospital's cots.

The Seeker listlessness gazed back up at them with eyes gleaming more with fever than the usual alien silver of the Souls. He was rather pale and sweaty. Whatever was afflicting him had robbed him of most of his strength. It had been a challenge for Kate and Scott to drag him to the hospital. Originally, despite Marc's orders, Kate had wanted to bring Simon to see the two ill aliens in their makeshift jail rooms. But the doctor had insisted he could not leave Mary-Margret or Alexis. Not wanting to fight the all too stubborn Simon, she had given in.

"Well…" began Kate, but realized she wasn't sure what they were supposed to do with the Seeker. Marc had not explained that part of his plan. Typical Walters, she thought, mouthing off before he had a clue what to do next.

"Look," she said after thinking it over, "he's got some of the same symptoms as Mary-Margret. And he's taken their medicine as well. Isn't there something you can learn?"

"Yep," said the doctor briskly, "He's sick, apparently with a disease that's not treatable with Soul medical science." He scowled pointedly at the Seeker and added, "Too bad for you."

The Soul opened his mouth to speak, but only a dry cough came out. He swallowed, the effort painful, for he grimaced and tried again. Scott and Simon exchanged a glance but did not react. Neither wanting to get to close to the sick alien.

Kate shook her head and then pulled out a plastic water bottle from one of the packed boxes ready to be hauled out if they evacuated. She handed it to the Seeker. Surprise flashed on to his clammy face at her offer. He reached for it, almost hesitantly, as if he feared Kate would yank it away. One he had a grip on the bottle, he twisted the top off and quickly began to drink, gulping nearly half the contents in a matter of a few seconds.

"Th…Thank y…you," he said weakly when he had finished. He lay still for a moment, and then he twisted his head to the side to turn his fever-bright eyes on Simon. "Will…you be…torturing…me?"

Simon rolled his eyes scornfully at the question. "I have actual patients that need attending," he informed Scott and Kate while jutting his chin toward Mary-Margret's and Alexi's beds. Pointing a finger down at the Seeker, he added, "Keep him quiet and keep him out of my way."

After Simon had left, Scott gave the Seeker a curious look. "Did you think we brought you here to torture you? Why would we do that?"

With some difficulty, the Seeker rasped his answer, "Why else…would you keep me…alive?"

Scott frowned, "We're trying to understand why people are getting sick. You, that other Seeker, Mary-Margret, and little Alexis are all coming down with the same thing."

"Our medicine…" began the Seeker, but a series of hard coughs cut him off as they shook his whole body. The bottle of water slipped from grasp as he convulsed. Kate caught the bottle, and once his spasming coughs subsided, she helped him with the rest of the water.

"You told me you took some of your medicine before you came into the tunnels," said Kate," but it didn't last, did it?" She walked to over to one of the boxes and rummaged through the contents for a few seconds. Pulling out a bottle of HEAL, she showed it to the Seeker. "We used some of this, but it didn't work for us either."

"Where did…" came the Seeker's weak reply. He closed his eyes and let his head rest against the cot's slim pillow. "It doesn't…matter…This…is not…good."

"You're right," replied Scott. He then huffed out a short a laugh. "What do you know? I agree with a Seeker."

Taking a deep breath, the Seeker then let it out. A moment of calming his afflicted body. His eyes slowly reopened. "Where…is Bright Moon?"

* * *

####

* * *

Marc yanked Bright Moon along, all but practically dragging her after him. Her arm swelled with pain as his fingers dug into her skin through her uniform. Her arms were still tied behind her back. Marc had only cut the plastic bands that had bound her legs together. It made walking a little easier for her, a small comfort.

Walking along, they once again traveled through the large space she had seen once before. This time Bright Moon got a better look at the vast chamber. At the top of the high ceiling, the still bizarre collection of lights and lamps tied into a large ball hung down by a mass of twisting cords and cables. It was the only point of illumination for the entire rectangular shaped room. Tall walls and the high ceiling all cast in a uniform gray of poured cement. Along the far wall, about halfway to the top, there was a curious set of circular holes. There were metal fittings next to the empty openings, and it looked as if pipes or tubing had run through these holes in the past.

In contrast to the dull grey walls, the floor was covered in a colorful patchwork of throw rugs, carpets, and blankets. Some new and fresh, with little sign of wear, while others were threadbare and nearly falling apart. Strewn about, seemingly at random were pieces of furniture. They passed an old beat up couch, two half broken yard chairs, and then a pristine new wooden table. Further away Bright Moon swore she saw a large oblong chalkboard. An old one, framed by weathered wood which could be pushed around on little wheels. Taking everything in this strange place left her even more confused. What could Marc and his troublesome humans' companions be doing here? Without really meaning to, she spoke her thought out loud.

"What do we do here?" echoed Marc as he pulled her along. "Well, we have interruptive dance competitions." His voice rose in contempt. "What the hell do you think we do here? This is our home."

_'Impossible,'_  Bright Moon told herself. Just more tricks from Marc. Unwaveringly he pulled her along, out of the enormous room, down a narrow ramp and into a twisting corridor. Here the light came from lamps strung along at regular intervals, casting the tunnel in intervals of light and shadow. The passageway's walls were composed of timeworn bricks. Their red color had faded to a dull brown, and the mortar between them showed considerable signs of wear and tear. But parts of the wall showed signs of recent repair. New bricks and cement had begun to replace the crumbling old ones. She found herself forced to reevaluate her original impression. Far more was going on here than a few humans taking refuge in the underground of Chicago.

As they went along, she found herself asking, "How did you hide all of this from us?"

Marc glanced over to her and replied with a small smile, "Hard work. Patience. A little bit of luck." His smile grew a notch. "There's a bit more to the story, but I'm not going to tell you all of our trade secrets."

"It is…more than I would have thought you and your people capable."

His smile dropped away, and his voice grew cold. "Yes, we monkeys can do all sort of tricks."

She had not meant her comment as an insult. She was rather impressed. But as usual, Marc was an unreasonable human. Anger and violence were the only things he understood. She wondered where they were going. Regretfully the only destination she could come up with was Marc was taking her to where he planned to kill her.

Escape. She had to try.

Bright Moon noticed Marc had become very distracted as they approached a bend in the tunnel. His grip on her arm was now loose, and his eyes were unfocused as moved. He seemed to be deep in thought. Just as they turned, she abruptly pulled against him, twisting her arm as far as the restraints on her wrists would allow. Momentarily taken off guard, he tried to regain his grasp, but she was both quick and desperate, and she broke free.

"Hey!" came Marc's surprised shout. But she was already running down the passageway as fast as she could run. She had no idea where the tunnel led, but for now, she solely focused on getting away from that wretched Human. She dared not turn back, less she slowed herself down. With her hands still tied behind her back, her stride was thrown off balance. It made running difficult.

"Get back here!" bellowed Marc over the sound of his feet smacking against the floor of the tunnel as he began running after her.

Turning right at an at joining intersection, she found the regular stringing of bulbs lighting the way were dropping off. She could only hope it meant the Humans did not use this passageway. With a dimming light, she nearly missed the wrought iron rungs of a ladder on the right side of the curved tunnel. They lead upward into a very narrow dark hole.

The sounds of pursuit echoed from they way she just ran. The hole was barely more than a crack in the ceiling of the tunnel. But without any better options, Bright Moon stepped on to the ladder and began to climb. With her arms behind her back, it quickly proved very challenging. Balancing with only her legs, she shakily she managed to get up five whole rungs. Her head and shoulders pushed into the narrow tunnel. Its surface was cool and moist, and a steady flow of cold air hit her face. Two more steps and then one of her arms caught against the side, wedging in her place. She wiggled back and forth, trying to free herself.

Laughter floated from behind her. "What do you think you're doing? That's an air vent. You'll never climb up that."

Bright Moon struggled even harder, desperate to free herself and get away from Marc. She managed a few inches when she felt a hand wrapped around her leg. She froze. Although she had managed to crawl into the hole, her legs were still exposed in the tunnel below

"Stuck?" asked Marc. His voice dripped with smug humor.

An actual growl came out of her throat. It surprised her. Bile began to build in her stomach. She felt sick. She could never get away from this monster. Then Marc's hand wandered up her leg to her thigh, and a shriek began to start in her throat.

"Here, let me help…"

Another hand joined the other already on her body. She cried out, but her scream was cut off as he yanked downward. Her arm still caught scrapped painfully against the gap's side. She tried to kick him off, but his grip was too strong. She dropped a whole step down, and her arm twisted free from its confinement. She dropped another two steps. Flailing with her legs, she managed to knock Marc off balance. His grip on her lessened and suddenly they were both falling down with a loud crash onto the floor of the tunnel.

Pain spread all over her body. With muscles aching, she struggled back to her feet, but Marc faster. He jumped up and pushed her against the wall of the tunnel. She pushed back, fighting roughly against him. He grabbed her by her arm and twisted her around. He leaned forward pressing his right arm into her back, pinning her against the wall.

Rage built up in her body until it seemingly exploded from her body. "Just finish this!" she found herself screaming.

Marc's voice started with an angry reply but then broke in confusion. "You…What!?"

"Kill me. I know you want to do it. Stop these endless games you play. The sadistic fun you have at finding new torments for me."

He spun her around and was so close now, only an inch or two from her, his face a cloud of dark anger. "Is it so hard to believe I don't get enjoyment from killing, or torment, or fighting with you!"

"You say that, but your actions prove that false!" she yelled back him.

"Oh really!? You are going to lecture me on torments, huh? How about hunting us like animals, how about closing off every way of getting food and starving us, how about your 'disposal' of humans that don't make a good 'host'?" growled Marc.

She bit back at his argument. "I take no enjoyment from those actions."

"Well, your actions prove that false," mocked Marc, "because you sure had no problem doing them. Hell, not an hour ago you were trying to cut me open and stick one of you into me. Tell me you were not happy to wipe me out!"

She kicked off against the wall with her legs, trying to knock him off-balance. But Marc simply countered by pulling abruptly back. With his weight gone she found herself tipping forward. Her hands were still tied she, and there was nothing she could do to stop herself. Once again, she hit the hard floor of the tunnel.

From above her Marc observed, "Pretty angry for a Soul."

Bright Moon rolled on the floor, not wanting to look at him. How she hated him. "You do this to me, Marc Walters." She pushed herself up to a half sitting position and felt a few hot tears rolled down her cheeks. "You do everything in your power to aggravate me, humiliate me, and cause me pain. Yes," she admitted, "I did take pleasure in trying to end you, just like a human would. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Marc's voice came from behind her. "That you want to kill me, no can't say I'm happy to hear it. But at least your being truthful about your feelings instead of giving me some bullshit line about it being for the greater good."

She shook her head slowly. Her head ached, but it was not from pain. She was tired. So tired of all of it. Her constant fight with the humans. With Marc. "And do you not want me dead? You can honestly say you would take no pleasure from my final death?"

Still on the ground, she turned and looked up at him. Surprisingly, his expression matched hers. Marc did not appear angry or mocking. His eyes betrayed a deep weariness. With his arms crossed, he leaned up against the sloped side of the tunnel. He spoke quietly, "Ask me an hour ago and I would have probably said yes. But now I have a problem." And then with some difficulty, he amended, "I think  _we_  have a problem."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"People here are starting to come down with…something," replied Marc. "The flu or some sort of illness. My people. Your people. It all seems to be the same thing."

Bright Moon wondered if this was just another trick. It could be. But for once Marc words did not carry his typical disdainful tone or had his lips peeled back in a jeering smile. He looked…worried. She cocked her head to one side and said, "Our mutual hatred aside, my people will learn of my discovery in these tunnels. They'll be here in force soon. Surrender, and we will have healers take care of your people who are ill."

Marc let out a long sigh. "Come with me and see for yourself." He reached down to grab her, but she pulled away. Trying to keep her distance. His eyes grew hard. "Don't fight me."

Dreading more painful yanking of her arm, she kept pushing away with her feet against the floor, scampering further down the dimly lit tunnel. "Stay away. It hurt when you grabbed me. It felt like you were pulling my arm off."

"I…" began Marc, but then he stopped himself and let another sigh. A longer and more pained one. "Fine," he said through gritted teeth. "I won't yank so hard. But you can't go running off. There are parts of these tunnels that are dangerous to enter."

She stopped her retreat. "Or I might get away."

A flicker of a smile crossed his lips. "Unlikely…Bri. You're far off the map. You'd never find your way back to the surface without one of us helping you."

Some of her fatigue fell away. More mocking titles from Marc. She rose back to her feet. "I found your fake wall. I found your hidden tunnels you travel by. I could do it," she challenged him.

"Which is why I've tied you up. Because Bri, you are the biggest pain-in-the-ass Seeker in the entire universe."

Oddly instead of getting annoyed at his sarcastic insults, she felt the stirrings of amusement in her body. "Are you trying to give me a compliment?"

The grin that had been slowly inching its way up Marc's face vanished. "Simply stating the obvious. Now come on."

Marc took hold of her again. But as he had promised his grip was not so tight, nor did he wrench her arm as he led her back into the brightly lit portion of the passageway. And she did not try to fight him. They walked at a steady pace, both silent. As they took yet another turn, Bright Moon got the impression they were gradually rising. The tunnel had a slight slope to it. Then in the distance, resonating from up somewhere up ahead she caught the sound of a deep rumbling. She felt it as vibration through the stone floor more than hearing it.

"What is that?" she asked Marc.

"An L train," answered Marc, referred to Chicago's subway system. "One of the tracks is a couple of levels above us. "

Bright Moon realized this meant they were indeed deep underground. Marc was not lying about escape being difficult. Given the twist and turns they had already traveled, Bright Moon was uncertain she could even find her way back to the massive room they had just come left. More and more questions began to form. Just how big was the Humans' base? How many were hiding here? It was becoming clear they had been living here for a while. Why did they remain? Why did Marc start to attack the city? And why was he trying to convince her of some sickness running amok?

At last the twisting tunnel ended, and they entered a bigger and broader space. While not nearly as big as the other chamber the humans had, this room also stretched out in a long rectangular shape. It had a curved ceiling stretching up high above, formed from featureless gray cement. The top gradually arched downward to meet stubby brick walls on the right and left sides of the room. The far side was nothing more than smashed chunks of cement and stones, wedged together to form a broken and uneven wall. Bright Moon guessed someone had filled in part of this room some point in the past. She concluded this place was simply another tunnel, only much larger than the narrow winding pathway the had just exited.

Gazing about, she saw there were more humans here, clustered around two rows of makeshifts cots. These beds had faded green fabric stretched between a thin metal frame resting upon flimsy looking wooden legs. A few were occupied. A young girl laid on the cot farthest from her. Close by a woman with golden blonde hair and a swollen belly crouched near the child, holding her hand. Another held a sleeping old woman dressed in a dark navy-blue dress. Her gray hair pillowed around her pale face. But it was the last occupant of these narrow beds which pulled her complete attention.

"Calm Waters Below," she jolted in surprise. She had been certain she would never see him again. He lay on the cot with his eyes closed and his hands resting on his stomach. His very still face was ashen and waxy looking. For a scant second, she thought his host body was dead, that this was all still a disgusting trick from Marc. But then Calm Waters Below let out a dry cough, and his eyes blinked open.

"Bright Moon!" he croaked as his head turned to the sound of her voice. He let out two more hacking coughs and then tried to rise to a sitting position. He flailed about, weakly moving his body as the rickety cot rocked back and forth.

"Stop it," ordered a petite woman with dark hair hanging down to her eyes. She, along with another human, a thin man with blonde hair, flanked the sides of Calm Waters Below's bed. Both carried gun. The man held a pistol at his side, while the woman had a strap of leather slung around her shoulder, providing a harness for an old, but still very deadly looking rifle. With their weapons at the ready Calm Water Below promptly did as commanded and stopped trying rise from the cot.

Bright Moon found she recognized both from the ambush in the tunnel. The woman was named Kate, but Bright Moon was uncertain of the man's name. Looking them over with an unpleasant sneer, Kate shook her head at Marc while pointing an accusing finger at Bright Moon. "Why did you bring her here?"

Bringing Bright Moon to a stop by Calm Water Below's bedside, Marc answered, "I brought her because she will not believe a damn thing I say. But," and he gestured at the Seeker laying on the bed, "she will listen to him."

"You," he instructed Calm Waters Below, "explain what's going on here." He then gave Bright Moon a grim smile and told her, "You try anything, try run off, or cause me any problems and Kate and Scott here will shoot you." At that, he let her go and marched away, evidently happy to be free of her and headed towards the other beds.

Bright Moon watched as Marc bent down by the old woman sleeping on a nearby cot, then looked to the other humans guarding her, and then down to her friend. The situation was beyond bizarre. Calm Waters Below did indeed look very ill. Back when they captured Marc in the tunnels, she had noticed his body had seemed to be unwell. But he had insisted he was alright and had taken the required medicine. That meant he should be fine, yet he clearly was not.

Despite his weakened body as his apparent ailments, Calm Waters smiled up at her. With some difficulty, he wheezed out, "Bright Moon, I so very glad you are unharmed."

Awkwardly she lowered herself on the cot next to his. She wanted to hold his hand, to try to comfort him in obvious distress. But with her hands still tied, it was impossible. "Please, what is happening here? Did the Humans do this to you?"

With a tiny shake of his head, Calm Waters mustered his strength and managed to turn on his side to face her directly. "No. They didn't do anything to me. Some illness, some form of disease is afflicting us." He made a feeble wave towards the other two occupied beds. "The woman and girl are also sick. Same symptoms as me. Fever. A bad headache. Weakening body…" he trailed off and rested his head on the cot's meager pillow.

Bright Moon leaned close to Calm Waters and lowered her voice. Hopefully, the nearby Humans would not hear. "We need to get you out of here and to a Healer."

"Wait…there's more…" whispered Calm Waters. "I heard the Humans talking…Seeker Allison is also infected…Even worse than me."

"How is that possible? She was fine in the tunnels."

"I don't know…I took COOL before we started…and it didn't last…The Humans' Healer has also tried treating the illness…

"They don't have the right medicine…" she began but broke off as she noticed the contents on a nearby table. White bottles of HEAL, CLEAN, and COOL sat on it. She frowned, "How do they have these supplies?"

Calm Waters Below panted as he struggled to answer. Bright Moon could see hard he was trying to get his words out. Sweat was beading up on his forehead and trickling down his face. She pressed a hand gently on his chest.

"No, it is alright. I understand. Rest my friend. I'll take care of you."

A faint smile managed to make its way on to Calm Waters Bellow's face. His body sagged into the mattress, and his eyes closed, utterly exhausted. It was clear to her that Marc and his ever-constant thievery was the answer to how the Humans had acquired the drugs. That at least made sense to her. But everything else did not. She doubted this was some crazy scheme by Marc. If this illness was truly resistant to their medicine, it represented a dire threat to everyone in the city. With a weary shake of her head, she sat down next to Calm Waters and tried to think on what do next.

* * *

####

* * *

"Got anything?" asked Marc as he watched Simon moved the stethoscope across Alexis' back.

The doctor was kneeling beside the little girl's cot, listening to her breathing as he gave her a more thorough examination. Simon was determined to try to make sense out of the spreading illness. Behind them, Sara stood fretfully, closely watching over the proceedings. However, Marc had caught her eyes glancing over to the two Seekers. Sarah most certainly did not like them so close to her daughter.

Simon got to his feet and answered. "There no congestion in her lungs. No inflammation or other pain in her stomach. That means it's not respiratory based. Or something she ate. Everything seems tied to her head or neck."

"And that means?" asked Marc.

Simon rubbed the bridge of his nose, deep in thought. "Might be something chemical, causing some neurological issue," he said after nearly a full minute of contemplation. "But with the fever and dehydration, I doubt it. Best guess its a viral or bacterial based infection."

Before Simon could say more a commotion came from the entrance to the hospital. Marc had a sudden stab of fear the Seeker reinforcements Bright Moon claimed were coming had arrived. But it turned out to be Mike and Jason dragging a darkly dressed woman. Another Seeker. She was the tall woman Marc remembered as trying to spray him with the sleeping gas in the tunnels. As Jason and Mike brought her in Marc could see she was bleeding from nose quite profusely and she did not appear conscious.

As they laid the female Seeker out on one of the empty cots, Mike looked over to see Sarah and Alexis. He started in surprise and swiftly went over to his wife and daughter, growing concerned at seeing them in the hospital. Stooping down, he hugged his little girl. And Alexis immediately wrapped her arms around her father in return.

"What's going on?" he asked Sarah

"It's Alexis. She's sick," explained Sarah in a hurried whisper.

Marc could see Mike's body grow rigid in alarm. "What!?"

Simon broke in, irritably glaring at the newcomers. "Sorry to interrupt your interruption," he snapped as he gestured at the unconscious Seeker. "But what the hell is she doing here?"

Jason spread his hands apologetically. "Sorry, Doc," he said. "But didn't know what else to do with her. She started bleeding from her nose again and then went into some type of convulsion." He looked over to Kate and added, "thought she had done a suicide on us for real this time, but she's still breathing."

Scowling, Simon bent down and examined the fallen Seeker. After a few minutes, he got up and went straight to Bright Moon and the other Seeker who had watched all of this in mute horror. "What's your name?" he asked Bright Moon.

"Bright Moon on Fallen Snow," she said slowly, not taking her eyes off the woman.

"And what's her name?" said Simon pointing at the woman.

"Allison."

"Well, Miss Snow, your friend Allison there is showing all the signs of septic shock. Her breathing is shallow, and her pulse is unsteady and dropping. It looks like to me she's fighting a losing battle against one helluva infection. How long has she been like this?"

"She was fine when we entered the tunnels…"

"Well, I find that damn amazing," interrupted Simon. "I would have guessed she had been seriously ill for several days given her vitals." He turned back to Seeker Allison in deep thought. "We're looking at something which can go from infection to near death in just under an hour. Must have the mother of all growth rates. I wonder if it's got an incubation time," he muttered to himself.

"Simon, you mean you can't do anything?" asked Scott.

The doctor looked up from his latest patient to see Scott, Kate, and Jason had taken a few steps away from the three Seekers. They clustered together near Marc and Mike. With now two sick aliens, everyone was keeping their distance. Simon shook his head, "No, nothing, her organs are rapidly shutting down. Even if the," and he paused for a second to glance at the Seekers, "parasites' medicine was working right, it would be too late for her."

Jason, becoming increasingly alarmed at Simon's assertion, "Do we need to decontaminate or something?"

"Bit late for that. By this point, we've been exposed to whatever this is. And if Mary-Margret is any indication, this bug has been here for at least a day."

Sarah clutched on to Mike's arm like she was about to collapse. "What about Alexis? Will she be like…her?" she asked in a weak whisper with an anxious flick of her wrist towards the comatose Seeker.

Simon's face twisted as conflicting emotions fought. Calm reassurance versus the stark reality of facing an unknown and impossible threat. A lie versus the truth. "Look," he said eventually, "Mary-Margret and Alexis have been sick longer than that Seeker. Neither one is bleeding from the nose or in septic shock. So maybe…just maybe this disease reacts differently to the Souls."

Taking a shaky breath, Sarah nodded. "Then Alexis will be alright."

Simon did not reply. Choosing not to give away too much false hope to a desperate mother. But Mike's eyes clouded up in anger. His worries were growing exponentially. "Did the Seekers do this? Set off some bug that got away from them?"

Marc had brought Bright Moon here with the intention of watching her reaction. He considered himself a bit of an expert when it came to Seekers and when they lied. And after watching her surprise at her fellow Seeker's condition, he was certain Bright Moon had no more idea why this was happening than he did.

"I don't think so. This isn't the way they way Seekers do things. Now maybe they might be willing to go kamikaze to take us out, but they'd never do something that put their people in harm's way. Releasing some virus could easily get out their control."

"Marc's right," added Simon as the doctor left the dying Seekers side and returned to his makeshift desk. "Biowarfare is inherently risky. Blowback of a weapon is too big a problem unless you're really desperate."

With his eyes still on his sleeping daughter, Mike asked helplessly, "Then what the hell is going on?

But no one had an answer, and everyone drifted in an uncomfortable silence. Marc sat down on the cot next to Mary-Margret. The old nun's eyes were closed, and breathing came in slow, even breaths of deep sleep.

He took her and held it in a light grip as tried to work out what to do next. Time was running out before more Seekers showed up in the tunnels. Likely the reason the Bright Moon and her black dressed goon squad had not offed themselves. They knew reinforcements would be here soon. Marc also knew to try to use them as hostages or bargaining would not be a good idea. If Souls even though they would be used in such a way, they killed themselves and their host body, robbing their captors of a living shield.

He was brought out of his thoughts by Mary-Margret's hand twitching in his. Looking down he saw her eyes flutter open, blinking a few times, she focused on Marc. She paid close attention to the nature of his eyes. Satisfied he had not been taken over by the parasitical aliens, she smiled faintly in relief. "Marc, I'm so glad you are alright."

"Hey, no worries about me. Let me worry about you."

"Oh this," she gestured to herself, "is Simon overreacting again. I'll be fine with a little more rest."

"Sister," said Marc with a tired shake of his head. "This is bad." He pointed to little Alexis a few beds down where her parents were tending to her and then to their unusual new patients. "Simon doesn't know what this illness is and its spreading."

At seeing the three Seekers, Mary-Margret came as close as Mark had ever seen the Nun go completely speechless. After a moment she managed to get mouth working again and said, "It seems I missed a few things while I was out."

"Just a few," replied Marc and quickly relayed most of the highlights of the last few hours.

Ever stoic, the old nun took in everything in her stride. After Marc finished, she asked, "And the Souls' medicine? I seem to remember that Matthew instructing us on all its wonderful uses."

"Doesn't seem to be able to beat this one," replied Marc.

Sister Mary-Margret reflected on this and then nodded. "I see," she said simply.

Without knowing what else to say, Marc got up and scrounged around in a few packed boxes. He and Scott had swiped a few stacks of bottled water from a Soul store a week ago. Finding a few still around in he popped the lid off and handed it Mary-Margret.

"Thank you. Although I confess, I would love some hot tea."

"Sorry, best I can do," said Marc as he returned to the cot beside Mary-Margret's and leaned close. The sheer magnitude of their problems was beginning to feel like an oppressive weight on his shoulders, pressing him down into the thin mattress. "I don't know what to do," he admitted in a whisper to the nun.

Taking a moment to collect herself, Mary-Margret struggled to sit up. Marc put a hand on her back and gently helped her rise. Despite the thickness of the nun's clothing, he could feel the fever burning in her frail body.

Leaning close to Marc, she replied in a whisper of her own. "You will find a way, Marc. You always do. You may not see it, but the Lord's path is always before you."

Marc let out a huff that nearly came out as a laugh. "You remember I don't believe in any of your fairy tales."

It was an old argument between them, going back to the day they had first met. "I remember," said Mary-Margret with a knowing smile. "But that doesn't change anything. There is a way out of this whether you believe in my so-called fairy tales or not." She stretched her arms out and rolled her shoulders as she straightened up on the narrow cot. She eyed the Seekers for a moment before turning back to Marc. "If want my advice on something other than spiritual matters, I assume our home in now in danger."

Marc gave a nod of his head towards the Bright Moon and the other Seeker. "The other Souls are going to realize something is up when this lot doesn't report in. It's a good bet they'll send a small army down here. Just how long that takes is the real question."

"Therefore, we need to leave. And do so quickly."

"I know," admitted Marc. "But where do we go?"

Mary-Margret dropped her voice to a whisper. "Your friend, Autumn Gusting Wind has suggested…"

Marc cut her off, vigorously shaking his head at the unspoken plan. He did not want to discuss the details when Bright Moon was so close. "That's pretty much our worst-case scenario. It's extremely risky."

"I believe," said Mary-Margaret evenly, "this is a textbook definition of the worst-case scenario."

"So, we up and leave? With you and Alexis sick?" questioned Marc.

"I will manage, and little Alexis has her parents to help her," argued the nun. "At the least, it will buy us time to figure out a more permanent living arrangement."

Lapsing into silence, Marc mulled over what to do next. Mary-Margaret was right. She often was, much to Marc's irritation. As he sat, he let his eyes close. He listened to Simon nearby softly mumbling to himself. Scott and Kate speaking to Mike. The lightly raspy breathing of Mary-Margret. A brief moment of peace. One to be broken only a few moments later.

"Get away from her!"

Marc's eyes snapped open. Sarah was standing before Bright Moon. With everyone's attention drawn elsewhere, she had moved from where the two sick Seekers rested, crossing the distance to the other side where the Humans had clustered. Putting her in arms reach of Alexis. Sarah, apparently sensing the danger to her daughter, had rushed forward, blocking the Seeker's path.

Bewildered, Bright Moon stopped in surprise and then looked about, unsure of what was happening. Sarah, despite being six months pregnant, put herself right into the Seeker's face. "Don't you touch my little girl!" Mike was right behind her, followed by Scott and Kate. Their guns out, already aiming at the Seeker.

Taken aback, Bright Moon promptly retreated several steps. Her eyes wide in startled fear. Shakily, she glanced to the sleeping Alexis, to her mother, and then to Marc. "I-I had no intention of harming the child. I…just…need to speak with Marc."

Pushing himself to his feet, Marc warily threaded around Sarah, Mike, Scott, and Kate. The little group stood in a half-formed arc before the Seeker, looking as if they were going to rip her apart. Grabbing Bright Moon by the arm, he yanked her away, putting some distance between themselves and an angry and frightened miniature mob. For once, she did not fight him as pulled her along.

"Bri, could you possibly go five minutes without causing me a headache," he grunted.

Bright Moon answered in an unusually unsteady voice, "H-How else am I-I supposed to talk to you when s-stalk away to the other side of this place." If he did not know better, he would have sworn she was trembling in his grip.

Mary-Margret had half turned in her bed and had watched everything play out. Her calming words came as Marc led the Seeker back to the nun's bedside. All the while keeping a healthy distance from Alexis's cot. "Easy Sarah, no one here is going to hurt your child."

Sarah's shoulders slumped ever so slightly. A tiny fraction of tension drained away from the others. But they all keenly kept their eyes on Bright Moon. Coming to a stop before the nun's bedside, the old woman carefully studied the Seeker for a moment before admonishing Marc. "For heaven's sake, untie for the poor girl."

Marc looked at Mary-Margret as though she had grown an extra head. "She's a Seeker, Sister. If I untie her, she'll try to escape or harm one of us."

Still studying Bright Moon with a critical eye, the nun addressed the Seeker. "Hmm, so you are the young lady causing us so many problems."

For her part, the Bright Moon did not seem to know what to make of the nun. She stared in confusion at the old woman. This made Mary-Margret flash a happy grin at the Seeker. Almost laughing, she spoke to Marc. "She's a guest here, and we treat guests better than this."

Marc began to protest, but the Mary-Margret's happy smile disappeared in an instant. Her expression grew sharp and voice authoritative. "She's terrified if you hadn't noticed and I believe Scott and Kate with their guns are more than enough deterrent if she has ideas of running around. Everyone here needs to take a step back and relax."

When Marc still hesitated, her words turned to an outright command. "Untie her. Now."

With a heavy sigh and feeling unfairly chastised, Marc began to undo Bright Moon's restraints. In near astonishment, she asked, "Who is this woman? How can she order you around so?

"You try arguing with a nun," he grumbled as worked the ties binding her arms, "you'd have better luck trying to empty Lake Michigan with a spoon."

A soft snort came from Mary-Margret. Amusement spread on her wizened old face. "What is your name, dear?" she asked the Seeker.

Marc cut the last of restraints away, and Bright Moon pulled her now free hands from behind her back and began rubbing them to regain some feeling. "I am called Bright Moon on Fallen Snow," she told the nun.

"My that is a mouthful, but I admit I do like your Souls' names. Seem so elegant compared to some of ours."

Feeling like he needed to interject, Marc put in, "I call her Bri." This earned him a short laugh from Mary-Margret and a scowl from Bright Moon.

"Ah Bri, short for Briana _,_ " explained the nun. "Means noblewoman." Placing a hand on Bright Moon's arm, she gave the Seeker a comforting pat. "Are you a noblewoman?"

Again, Bright Moon appeared utterly confused by the nun. She opened her mouth and then closed it. After a moment she said, "I don't know what that means."

"That's alright," said Mary-Margret with a friendly smile, "the important thing is everyone had a chance to calm down a bit. I believe you came over here to ask something of us. What do you need?"

Both Marc and Bright Moon gave her a rather surprised look of bafflement. Yet the nun's actions had the desired effect. The Seeker had visibly relaxed. Nodding in agreement, Bright Moon turned to Marc. "I need the Cryotank we brought. You took it when you captured us."

Marc frowned with deep suspicion. "Why?"

"To retrieve Seeker Allison, her host will not last much longer. When it expires, there will be a short window of time to remove her from the body. I will store her in the Cryotank," explained Bright Moon.

Marc watched her closely. While Souls did not lie, Seekers did. He had heard enough of their deceptions to see through them, or at the very least with Bright Moon, he could tell when she was lying. There was something of evasiveness in her answer. He wondered what she was holding back. Shaking his head, he replied, "The Cryotank is already occupied, and you are  _not_  putting the current occupant into one of us."

"A Cryotank can carry two of us in an emergency. It is not a long-term solution, but when the other Seekers come, we can transport her to her own," answered Bright Moon.

More frustration built up in Marc. Of course, the Seekers were coming. He glowered in irritation at himself. He had delayed their deciding because he did not want to run and throw away everything they had built here. He had made excuses by trying to figure out this disease. And he had wasted even more time with Bright Moon in some vain hope she could be reasoned with. It was all pointless.

"No. We're done here."

"Marc," put in Mary-Margret, "what is the harm in letting her try to save her friend."

His anger finally boiled over. "Harm! What harm!?" He thrust a finger at Bright Moon who flinched away. "It and its pals will soon have a bunch of their shiny-eyed friends down here. And if we are not gone, they will crush us."

A quick glance at the others in the hospital told Marc they felt the same way. Angry, fearful glares of desperate people in a desperate situation. But when he looked back at Mary-Margret, she was scowling at him in disappointment. "I didn't say we needed to stay, we do need to leave. But that doesn't mean we can't help them save one of their own."

"Why should I?" came Marc's reply through clenched teeth.

Sister Mary-Margret answered with one word. "Mercy."

Incredulity raced through Marc. Finding an outlet for his frustration, he began to pace back and forth in a tight, angry circle. "You have got to be kidding me, Mary-Margaret. Mercy…you want me to show the Seekers mercy? I've been merciful to them before, didn't help one damn bit."

With a distasteful glare, Bright Moon put herself in Marc path. "When have you ever shown compassion to us?" She waved her hand at him and then to the others. "You are all dangerous wild humans, and you'd murder us if you had the chance."

Marc's reply came not as an angry outburst, but in calm, deadly voice. "Really? Not three days ago I had you and your team helpless in a net at that warehouse. The smart move would be to kill you right there. But I didn't and look what that got us. It's time I corrected my mistake."

Bright Moon stood silent, defiantly glaring at him. He took a step towards Scott. His friend held one the Seekers' guns at his side. Marc would take it and do the damn job himself. Starting with Bright Moon.

But he never took the second step for Mary-Margret bellowed at the top of her lungs. "STOP! AND BE SILENT!" Everyone in the hospital froze, stunned at the frail nun's outburst. It would have seemed impossible for such a small woman to have made such a loud noise. She was standing with obvious difficulty and breathing hard. Deep, hard gasps at her exertion of keeping herself upright. It took a few moments before she spoke again.

"Marc and you, Bright Moon, both of you listen to me," she rasped out. Pausing, she wheezed out a few breaths before continuing. "Now Marc, you have done many things to the Seekers. You have fought them, run from them, hid from them, and played your tricks on them. But you have  _not_  shown the Seekers mercy."

"Mercy is not about expecting something in return. Mercy is not done as a reward, or for the strong to grant to the weak. Mercy is when you have no reason to, when every instinct tells you not to, that is mercy."

Marc was silent for a long time and finally said, "You want me to show mercy to those not capable of returning it?"

Turning to a wide-eyed Bright Moon, Mary-Margret replied, "I don't know if the aliens who call themselves Seekers know mercy, or how to show it to anyone who isn't another Soul. But if not, even more reason to demonstrate it to them."

As the nun spoke, she took another long moment as she gathered herself to continue. "Seeker Bright Moon on Fallen Snow, I will not argue with you on what the Souls have done to humanity. That is beyond me. It is too large. I am content to let the Almighty make a judgment. There are plenty of people here who would disagree with me, but it is my faith. What I can tell you is we have lived here for many years, nearly since the time your people took control of the city. In that time, no one here has killed a Soul. We hid from you, we stole from you, but we did not kill you. So, do not recklessly call us murders."

The uncertainty and fear of Bright Moon's expression stood out plainly, distrust practically radiated of her whole body. But as Mary-Margret spoke, it faded ever so slightly. Lines of doubt still crossed her face, but they became muted, replaced with a wide-eyed look of amazement.

"You have truly lived here," she slowly asked, "all this time, without conflict with us?"

"We have…tried to…" came Mary-Margret's weakening response. The nun now looked truly spent, and her legs began to fold underneath her. Marc was at her side in a near instant, his arms wrapping around her as he helped her lay down. With what little strength she had she whispered to him, "Show mercy, Marc."

Mary-Margret's eyelids slid close as her head rested against the pillow. Marc slowly straightened back up and looked about him. Simon, Kate, Mike, Sarah, even little Alexis looked at him. He saw Bright Moon had moved back to the other two Seekers but was also looking at him, her expression unreadable. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Trying to replace the circling feeling of doom in his stomach with a bit of confidence he did not feel. He looked over to his people - Simon, Mike, Scott, Kate, Jason and Sarah. Then to Bright Moon and the other Seekers. All gazed back at him, all their faces waiting and expectant.

Finally, he said, "We are getting out of here." He paused and added, "And someone give Bright Moon her damn cryotank."


End file.
